


The Devil is in the Detail

by Serenity_Williams



Series: Devil Nation [1]
Category: Hit the Floor (TV)
Genre: Basketball, Canon Compliant, M/M, NBA, ZUDE - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 02:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenity_Williams/pseuds/Serenity_Williams
Summary: Zero and Jude’s story. Close to canon with some creative liberties. Filling in the details/gaps of the show and giving our boys the air time they deserved! Story is mature and becomes explicit in Chapter 7.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a fan fic! I’m pretty sure I’ve read every Zude fan fiction here, so I had no choice but to start my own, haha. I stayed a little close to canon in this chapter, so I hope to branch out a little more with the next. Feedback is welcome. :)

Jude stared at the ceiling, waiting for his alarm to go off. He’d woken up an hour ago and despite his best efforts, found it impossible to fall back asleep. Today was arguably the most important day of his career, not to mention a pivotal moment in his father-son relationship with Oscar. After years of planning and ass-kissing, he’d finally found an in. 

Ever since he got to L.A. and landed his job as a junior agent, Jude’d been angling for an opportunity to work in the Devil’s Arena. Derek Roman was a difficult client to acquire, and it took stooping to an all time low, including drugs, sex scandals, and constant damage control to keep Derek satisfied. Jude told himself it was all worth it to get closer to his father. To Oscar. 

Before he left his Midwest hometown, his mom warned him to stop idolizing the man. Jude would never admit to idolizing Oscar, but he did admire him, and wanted a normal father-son relationship despite his mom’s skepticism. His parents separated and later got divorced when Jude was just five years old. Oscar moved shortly after to pursue his recent success in L.A., and Jude stayed behind with his mom. They were financially comfortable thanks to Oscar’s alimony and his mom’s job as a pediatric nurse, and overall, Jude grew up surrounded by loving extended family and friends. In the back of his mind, however, he wished to be closer to the man he called his father. This ambitious, successful, and powerful man who later became the majority shareholder and team owner of the Los Angeles Devils! 

Jude’s alarm announced 7:00am and interrupted his train of thought. He turned it off, stretched his arms and back, and with a grunt, sat upright. He was about to swing his legs over the bed when his phone chimed with a text.

“Hey man, you up?” Zero. Just reading the sender’s name got Jude’s stomach in knots. Zero was a small forward from Ohio, soon to be a Devil player. Jude overheard Oscar scouting him, and took matters into his own hands. He flew to Ohio and offered Zero a business proposition he couldn’t refuse. Zero was a godly man, or at least, he liked to pose as one. So Jude convinced him that L.A. was the Promise Land and the Devils were manna from Heaven. Zero had laughed at his gal, knowing full well that Jude saw through the bull shit Christian image, and granted Jude a lunch meeting to pitch his plan. 

Jude was taken aback by how easily their conversation had flowed during the meeting. At first, they stuck to business, but once Zero promised to give it some serious thought, they started talking about L.A., favorite hang out spots, hole-in-the-wall restaurants... Jude was surprised to say the least. That’s when he realized that there was more to Zero than meets the eye. On the surface, he was a good Christian boy. Scratch that, and you find a narcissistic, cocky baller. But under that? Well, Jude wasn’t sure, but a part of him was curious to find out. He scrapped a couple of replies before he settled on a simple, “yes”. A few seconds later, his phone chimed again. 

“Nervous?” Jude huffed at the suggestion. As a junior agent who helped negotiate multi-million dollar contracts on the weekly, there was hardly a moment Jude wasn’t nervous. Good thing he thrived under pressure.  


“A little, but I have every confidence that you’ll do great.” Jude confessed, wondering if it was smart to admit his nerves. Zero had a way of making him flustered and say things he later came to regret. There was a pause and Jude didn’t move until he heard the phone chime again. 

“We’re solid, Jude. Check the front door.” Confused, Jude padded into the living room and opened the front door. On the doorstep was a small package wrapped in brown paper with no return address. He looked around, feeling oddly watched, then took the package inside. “Brings out your eyes.” Said another text before Jude had the chance to open the box. It was a dark blue silk tie. It was fashionable, understated, and judging by its brand and quality, very expensive. Jude’s stomach clenched again. 

He was at a loss for words. He wasn’t used to expensive gifts from his clients, although he knew it wasn’t unheard of. Usually his clients gave him complementary tickets to their movie premiers or ballgames. Nothing so...personal. 

“Thank you,” he replied.  


“Wear it to the press conference. I need my agent looking sharp.”  


“You got it.” Jude answered and tossed his phone on the bed. He let out a long breath and tried not to overthink the gesture. Mindlessly, he showered and dressed in a light gray suit. He took extra time arranging his tie and making sure it was perfect. Zero was right, the dark blue complemented his brown eyes and made them appear warm and vibrant. 

He drove to the Devil’s Arena an hour ahead of schedule. Picking up a breakfast sandwich and coffee across the street, he took time to eat without making a mess and rehearsed his statement to the press. 

...

A few minutes before their scheduled appearance, Zero greeted Jude with his characteristic smirk. “Jude,” he drew out the name. “You’re looking good.” He stood too close for comfort and adjusted Jude’s tie with exaggerated slowness. Jude could smell his expensive cologne, a scent that prompted him to breathe a little deeper and enjoy the subtle notes of musk and amber. “You ready?” Jude swallowed hard and nodded. 

“Remember,” Jude said, clearing his head and going into professional mode. “Avoid negative comments about Ohio. Emphasize that you’re thrilled to be here and to have this opportunity.” He looked around the room and noticed that the media was starting to arrive and fill-in seats. Cameras were unpacked, batteries checked, and curious glances were cast in their direction. He was about to dish out more advice when Zero took another step forward and asked,

“How do you like it?” Jude’s mind went blank and he swallowed hard. 

“Like what?” 

Zero raised a brow. “The color.” His eyes lingered on Jude and then dropped to the tie. 

“Oh,” Jude stammered and hoped to god that his face didn’t show his embarrassment. “It’s nice.” Zero smirked and hummed in agreement. Jude cleared his throat and glanced sideways “We better get started.” He bypassed Zero and stood on the other side of the table, nodding to the seat meant for the baller. 

Zero turned on the charm. He smiled, bantered with the journalists, and punctuated every other statement with a Biblical quote. “I am thrilled and humbled to be apart of this amazing organization.” He emphasized the word thrilled for Jude’s benefit. “I know what it’s like to win a ring. I just hope I can bring some of that magic here to L.A.” He paused for effect. “I’d like to thank the two people that brought me here.” Zero glanced up at Jude who ducked his head from the attention. “Jude, a junior agent and a rockstar at my agency... and God. With him, all things are possible.” 

They spent a few minutes answering questions and posing for photos. Finally, Jude announced the meeting was over and motioned for Zero to exit the room. Jude followed closely behind so as to not be overheard. 

“Oscar and Pete, one o’clock.” Zero nodded and approached the two men with an outstretched hand. 

“Pete, Zero,” said Oscar by way of introduction. “Zero, Pete.” 

“Good to meet you,” Zero smiled and shook Pete’s hand. 

Jude’s attention wandered to Terrance and Derek. The two were watching from a distance, scowling. Jude wondered how they should handle the inevitable rivalry with Zero. Both players were up for MVP. Both had fame, money, and a solid reputation. Sure, there were rumors circulating about Terrance’s injury. And sure, Derek had a penchant for parties and threesomes. But they paid good money for their agency to keep things under wraps. Jude was Derek’s agent as well as Zero’s. It would be a conflict of interest if Jude used Derek’s secrets against him. He had to maneuver the situation carefully to keep both clients without issue. When Jude turned back to Zero, Pete and Oscar were gone. Zero was watching the two players as well. 

“Checking out the competition, huh?” said Zero. Now that the press was gone, he was back to his cocky, charming self. No more false modesty. 

“Can you blame them? Oscar calls you his 30 million dollar insurance policy. To them, you’re a threat until proven otherwise.” 

“I’ve dealt with guys like this before. I’ll fly under the radar. Be a team player.” Zero smirked at Jude’s look of surprise. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.” He gave Jude a playful smack on the shoulder and sauntered off towards the locker room. 

Jude watched him walk away until he realized he was staring.  
...

Jude was heading out of the arena when he ran into Oscar. 

“I don’t know how you did it, but gold star for bringing Zero to L.A.” Oscar said, keeping a steady pace towards his office. Jude puffed up at the praise. 

“I got more than a gold star. With Derek here already, the agency made me their point person here at the arena.” He paused, and wondered if he should say anything else. “I haven’t always felt 100% welcome here on my own...”

“Keep coming through for me like this, that could change. Good job, kid.” Jude wanted to whoop with excitement. Finally, his dad was acknowledging him and appreciating his efforts. 

“Thanks dad,” he said, smiling. Oscar stopped mid track and turned around with a scowl. Jude quickly corrected himself. “...Oscar.” 

Okay, so their relationship wasn’t there yet. Jude needed to prove to Oscar that he was worthy of being called his son. He racked his brain, wondering what else the team needed. With Zero on the team, the L.A. Devils were solid. The Devil Girls were more popular than ever. There was even talk about breaking ground on a new stadium. The only problem Jude could think of — and it was a pretty small problem, all things considered — was the disappearance of that Devil Girl. What was her name? Mia. Was it a coincidence that Oscar started bolstering the team’s reputation around the time she disappeared? Was it a cover up? 

Jude wasn’t oblivious to Oscar’s less-than-virtuous methods. He knew his father’s fortune was blood money. He didn’t like it. Jude wasn’t motivated by money like his father. He was motivated by professional success. It’s why his personal life was non-existent. Hell, the last time he went on a date was two years ago, and the only reason he went out with the girl was because she had some inside information about Derek Roman. His romantic life could be summarized by a high school girlfriend and a handful of dates since. 

Jude cleared his head. He had to stay focused and not reminisce on what he didn’t have. He had to conclude that Oscar’s recent big spending and spectacle was a way to distract the public from...something. Maybe it had to do with the missing girl, and maybe not. Nevertheless, Jude was sure that Oscar wanted good press and a lot of it. An idea started forming in his mind, and he went home to clean up and strategize his evening. 

...

Jude was standing at his kitchen counter making a sandwich when his phone chimed. 

Zero: “Talked to Derek and Terence, they’ve agreed to be in the Sport’s Center thing with me. Can you give the network a heads up?” 

Jude: “Sure thing.”

Zero: “What are you up to?”

Jude: “I’m at home, why?”

Zero: “Want to celebrate?” Jude paused. He already had something in mind for the evening, but the thought of hanging out with Zero was surprisingly hard to turn down. 

Jude: “Ok, I was going to stop by the Playground after the game.”

Zero: “It’s a date. ;) ” 

Jude stared at the last text. He was used to Zero’s flirtations and knew they didn’t mean anything. It’s just...he didn’t know why it affected him so much. It was easy to lose focus around Zero. 

...

Jude nursed his drink and watched Lionel Davenport across the bar talking to another woman. According to her instagram, she’d been at the bar for over an hour. Jude was thinking of the best way to approach her when a pretty waitress — who seemed vaguely familiar — handed him the check. He handed over his credit card on autopilot, still thinking about Lionel. 

“Kinkaid?” The waitress said in surprise. “That’s the owner’s name.” Jude finally focused on her name tag which said “Raquel” and realized why she seemed familiar. She was a former Devil Girl, recently replaced by Ahsha Hayes. 

“I’m Jude.” He said as a matter of fact. “His son.”

“His son? Oscar has kids?” 

“Kid, singular.” Jude huffed. “He never mentioned me, huh?”

“Well, we don’t really hang out, so...” She smiled apologetically. Normally, Jude didn’t advertise his parental situation. But there was something sincere about the woman in front of him that encouraged honesty. 

“I’m from his first marriage.” Raquel gave him a knowing look, handed him back his credit card, and crumbled the receipt. 

“This one’s on the house.” 

Jude smiled in thanks and watched the waitress as she made her way around the tables. She was pleasant to talk to and easy on the eyes. Not to mention she worked at the Playground, which gave her an insight into everybody’s business. He decided to ask her out at the next opportunity. 

Alright, thought Jude, downing his drink for liquid courage. Time to spin the wheel. He approached Lionel’s table as soon as her companion was getting ready to leave. Lionel was wearing an emerald green dress and a leather jacket which, combined with her porcelain skin and jet black hair, made her look like a Disney villain. She barely spared him a glance as he took a seat next to her. 

“Jude Kinkade,” he said by way of introduction. “I know who you are.” Considering he was talking to an A-list Hollywood actress, Jude was proud that his voice hadn’t faltered. “Big fan of your movies.”

“Really? Which one’s your favorite?” She challenged. 

“Eight Ball.” He said without hesitation. “You were robbed at the Oscars.” Lionel raised a perfectly arched brow and sipped her martini. Jude felt like he had passed the first riddle. “You’re actually why I’m here. I saw your name on the list for tonight. I wanted to invite you to all the games this season. Having a star of your caliber supporting the team on a regular basis would make Oscar very happy. And having Oscar happy would make me happy.” 

“This appearance is one night only.” Lionel said dismissively. Jude didn’t let that discourage him, however. He focused on ending his pitch on a high note. 

“Well hearing ‘no’ in life makes you want to hear ‘yes’ more. Think about it.” Lionel gave him a considering glance then shrugged. 

...

It was a great start to the season. The Devil’s played against a rival team that was tough to beat which made for a nail-biting game. With Zero being named the ‘lead scorer of the night’, the team won 103 to 101. When the buzzer sounded, the fans erupted with cheer. The players surrounded Zero in celebration, and the Devil Girls, media, and team investors flooded the court. Jude clapped as hard as the die hard fans around him. He was so proud of Zero and of the small part he had in bringing him to the team. He wanted to be down there and congratulate Zero in the moment, but he knew that was a privilege he had yet to earn. 

...

Jude entered the Playground and spotted Lionel at the bar talking to Pete. He ordered another whiskey neat because it was _that_ kind of day and waited. When Pete left, he approached and took the recently vacated seat next to her. 

“Reconsidered my request after that super exciting game?” He said lightly. Lionel glanced up, unsurprised to see him.

“I couldn’t consider coming to more games if my husband is screwing a Playground employee.” She said bitterly. Jude was taken aback. His face must have shown his confusion because Lionel gestured to the waitress behind her. Jude recognized Raquel. “We’re still married. You know what kind of press I’d get for that? Me in the stands, him in her bed.” She took an angry sip of her martini. 

“Her and Pete Davenport?” 

“It’s a problem for me. And for you if you want me at the rest of your games...” Jude took the hint. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

“We’ll see.” 

Jude rose and spotted Zero talking to Terrence and another player across the room. They seemed in good spirits. That is, until Jelena interrupted their conversation to stand in front of Zero. Jude didn’t like the way she arched her back to draw attention to the plunging neckline of her skin-tight dress. She glanced up at Zero through her lashes and said something Jude couldn’t make out. Terrence and the other player were watching the interaction, looking pissed and confused respectively. Zero must have replied because Jelena smiled sweetly in return— something Jude found disturbing — and with a knowing glance at Terence, sashayed out of the room. What the hell was she playing at?

The ballers watched her go in awkward silence. Finally Zero said something that made Terence’s scowl deepen. He and the other player left without another word. Zero hesitated, standing alone in the crowd, then he shrugged and made his way to the bar. Jude downed his own drink and figured it was safe to approach.

“Good game,” he said with a genuine smile, pretending he didn’t see anything a minute ago. Zero returned his smile, radiating from the high of his first victory in L.A. 

“I’m glad you came.” Zero slid a beer towards Jude and leaned back on the bar stool taking a long sip of his own. Jude accepted the drink and relaxed into the seat next to Zero.

“So what do you think of the team so far?” 

“It’s got potential,” Zero sucked his teeth and grinned, “But I sense a lot of tension. Seems like Derek and Terrance are distracted with something.” Jude smiled. Of course Zero picked up on that already. He was like a handsome shark who smelt blood in the water. 

“That’s your in,” said Jude.

“That’s my in,” echoed Zero, tipping his beer bottle in salute. They drank in companionable silence. Finally Zero said,

“Want to get out of here?” Jude huffed and looked around. 

“And go where?”

“How about your place?” Zero deadpanned. Jude choked on a mouthful of beer. He couldn’t understand why that simple sentence went straight to his groin. Zero’s eyes danced with amusement. “You should see your face,” he chuckled. Jude relaxed and began to feel embarrassed. It was just a joke. 

“It’s getting late,” Jude said a little harshly. “I thought you’d have a Devil Girl in your bed by now.” He was aiming for a teasing tone but missed by a long shot. Zero studied his face. 

“That’s a work in progress.” He said it in a voice that didn’t invite further questions. Jude wondered if Zero was crazy enough to have zeroed in on Jelena (pun intended) of all people. Knowing Zero, the answer was probably. Suddenly the silence wasn’t quite so comfortable, and Jude searched for a way to lighten the mood. 

“You wouldn’t want to go to my place anyway. It’s nothing to brag about.” He said staring into his bottle. “No bar, no marble, no state of the art TV. Just cold pizza and cheap beer in the fridge.” He stole a glance at Zero, hoping for a smile. He got one. 

“It just so happens...” Zero drawled in what Jude has come to recognize of as his Matthew Mcconaughey impression. “I love cold pizza and cheap beer.” He stood up, dropped a twenty on the counter, and nudged Jude. “Come on.”

“Are you serious?” 

“Why not?” Jude couldn’t think of a reason.  
...

Zero insisted that he drive since Jude was feeling buzzed from a combination of scotch and beer. As the baller drove with the top down, Jude relaxed into the luxury seats and enjoyed the way the wind felt through his hair. He must have been more drunk than he thought because he found himself staring at Zero, oddly feeling safe and content with him at the wheel. 

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to Jude’s apartment. He focused on unlocking the door without fumbling, a hard task since Zero was standing inches behind him radiating heat. Once open, Zero stepped inside, looking around appreciatively. 

“Nice digs.” 

“It’s nothing —“ Jude started.

“—to brag about. I know.” Zero finished. “But it’s comfortable. “ He chuckled to himself.

“What?” Jude asked, feeling a little self conscious. Zero shook his head.

“For some reason I pictured you having a golden retriever. Cookies in the oven. A ‘welcome’ mat at the door...”

“I think you’re confusing me with Martha Stewart.” Jude said dryly. Zero barked with laughter, and Jude felt ridiculously pleased with himself. They made their way to the kitchen. Jude offered Zero a Corona and went about preheating the oven for the pizza. They spent the rest of the evening eating, drinking, and watching replays of the game. Later, the settled on a Matthew Mcconaughey movie because apparently, he was Zero’s favorite actor. 

For one evening, Jude forgot about his problems. About Oscar, about his lack of promotion at work, about Derek and the coke. Hell, he even forgot about the expensive Uber ride to the office tomorrow since his car was still parked at the Playground. Jude sank deeper into the worn leather couch and felt himself let go. The last thing Jude could remember was watching Zero relaxed and laughing at something funny on the screen. It was a rare glimpse into the real Zero, and Jude drank in the sight. 

...

The next morning Jude woke up alone on the couch, feeling well-rested despite having had only a few hours of sleep. He padded into the bathroom for a shower and then the kitchen for breakfast. Half way through his cereal, his phone chimed. 

Zero: “Morning. Last night was fun. ;)” Jude rolled his eyes at the innuendo. 

Jude: “Yeah. Sorry I fell asleep. What time did you leave?”

Zero: “Around midnight. Check the front door.” 

Jude: “Another tie?” He got up and opened the front door. The first thing he noticed was his car parked in the driveway. Then he glanced down and saw a welcome mat on the doorstep. It was a a traditional weather-resistant mat with the words “Welcome Home” written in cursive letters. Jude huffed in disbelief and checked under the mat. Sure enough, his keys were there, safely tucked away from sight. 

Jude: “lol, thanks...?” 

Zero: “Just stay away from insider trading, Martha. ;)”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Olivia’s murder and blackmail, Jude has enough problems to deal with. The last thing he needs is a dirty dream about his star client.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and feedback! I haven’t written fiction in a loooong time, so please forgive my stiff writing style. I hope it will loosen up and improve with practice. :)
> 
> Fair warning: this chapter has more swearing and mature content than the last.

Jude woke up with a start, sweaty and breathless, and with a raging hardon. What the actual fuck? Closing his eyes to catch his breath, the last remnant of his dream flashed in his mind. Zero pressing Jude into the mattress. His fingers exploring _there_. His mouth capturing Jude’s possessively...Christ, get a grip. Jude shook his head, trying desperately to clear the image from his mind. He didn’t know what it meant, and he didn’t want to know. Not when he was knee deep in shit with Olivia, Oscar, and Pete. 

God, could things get any worse? Olivia had been murdered. Her body was found at the construction site of the Devil’s new stadium. The night before she died, Jude got a red envelope that threatened to reveal his involvement with Derek Roman. She knew about the coke. She knew a lot of things about a lot of people, apparently. Jude felt a momentary sense of relief when police confirmed her identity. Then he realized that a little bit of blackmail was nothing to a full blown out murder investigation. If the police found out about the red envelope, then Jude would become a murder suspect with a serious motive. 

Oscar was in an uproar because his $2 billion construction site was shut down as a crime scene. His investors were on the verge of backing out. The media was having a field day, speculating about everyone from her husband, Chase Vincent, to the house maid, to practically every associate in the Devil’s arena. They wondered if this murder was connected to Mia’s disappearance and suspicious suicide. Was there a serial killer at large? 

Then there was Pete. Lionel had asked Jude to take care of Pete’s blossoming romance with Raquel. It didn’t take long for Jude to realize that Pete still had feelings for his ex, Sloan, and Raquel was insecure about it. A few casual inquiries, and Sloan’s colorful past was ripe for Jude’s exploitation. He approached Pete and asked whether or not Sloan was single. He told Pete that he knew about Sloan’s wild past and wondered how she got her job as Olivia’s replacement when she wasn’t qualified. Pete’s jaw clenched, but it wasn’t until Jude suggested she must have performed sexual favors to Oscar that he punched him square in the face. 

Jude sighed heavily and got out of bed to walk to the bathroom sink. He had a purple bruise blooming across his right eye. It looked about as terrible as he felt. Just because he knew how to fight dirty, doesn’t mean he enjoyed it. But Jude didn’t have time to slow down and reflect. He stayed focused on his career goals and Oscar. He would do anything for the man. Helping his father was a small comfort when all the sneaking around and meddling made him feel sick to his stomach. 

He was about to hop into the shower and relieve the tension from earlier when an image of Zero, topping Jude and moaning with pleasure, popped into his head unprovoked. Fuck, Jude thought. What the hell is wrong with me? For the hundredth time, Jude tried to shove thoughts of Zero further from his mind. Then his phone chimed. 

Zero: “Hey Jude, I’m in the neighborhood. Mind if I stop by?” 

Speak of the Devil. Jude’s stomach clenched. He couldn’t face Zero so soon after his dream. He wouldn’t be able to look at the baller without flushing scarlet.

Jude: “Now’s not a good time.” 

He texted and tossed the phone aside. He was just about to step into the shower when the doorbell rang. Since when did his apartment become so popular? Jude thought dryly, gritting his teeth. Who could possibly be at the door on a Saturday morning? He waited another minute, hoping whoever it was would just go away, but the doorbell rang for a second time. Jude sighed and wrapped a towel around his waist. Ambling to the living room door, he opened it with an exasperated, “Yes?”

Zero stood on the other side. He was looking down at the doormat with a smirk. When he looked up to greet Jude, his eyes widened in surprise. They travelled across Jude’s naked torso, hesitated on the towel, and glanced back up to his shiner. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t ask,” Jude said, annoyed. Zero’s eyes crinkled in amusement. 

“Rough night?” He chuckled and followed Jude inside, shutting the door. Jude whirled around, suddenly too angry to filter his words. 

“What part of ‘now isn’t a good time’ don’t you understand?” Jude practically growled. Zero raised both hands in surrender. 

“Woah, Jude. Take it easy.” But Jude wasn’t going to be placated that easily. He wanted to be Zero’s agent more than anything, but he couldn’t face the man right now. Not when all he could think about was shoving him against the door and...and what? Jude took a step forward and was pleased to see the baller take a nervous step back in response. They needed to establish boundaries. 

“Why are you here?” Jude said in a dangerously soft voice. Zero shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. 

“I thought we’d discuss my interview with Sport’s Illustrated. Maybe grab lunch...” 

“And this couldn’t wait until Monday because...?” Jude had squared his shoulders and set his jaw, wanting to intimidate Zero. While he wasn’t a professional athlete, he was tall and muscular all the same. Zero looked intimidated for all of two seconds. Then he smirked and let his eyes travel lazily up and down Jude’s body. He took a step forward, the hardware on his leather jacket grazing Jude’s skin.

“You look hot when you’re angry.” He said low and teasing. His smirk widened to a Cheshire Cat grin when Jude gaped, clutching his towel tightly. 

“Fuck you, Zero.” He said, voice strained with control. 

“Is that an invitation?” The baller challenged. Jude had had enough. His intimidation had backfired, and Zero had definitely gotten the upper hand. The fact that it was so easy made Jude grit his teeth in annoyance. He backed away, picked up the TV remote and chucked it at Zero’s head. The baller caught it easily. Jude could still hear the prick chuckling as he rounded the corner to take a cold shower. 

Jude took his time. He needed to get his emotions in check. He stood under the freezing water, feeling himself soften and his breathing slow and deepen. The icy water made him shiver, and goosebumps covered his skin. But it wasn’t until he felt more or less like himself again that he turned the water off and brought his penance to an end. He brushed and flossed his teeth at the sink counter, shaved thoroughly, and combed back his hair. Dressed in jeans and a long sleeve Henley, he emerged from his bedroom and into the living room. 

Zero was sitting on the couch, watching Tom and Jerry reruns and eating...was that huevos rancheros? He glanced up. 

“Hey,” he said a little sheepishly. “Are we cool?” He indicated the takeout spread on the coffee table. “I ordered brunch.” Jude hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should offer an explanation for his strange behavior earlier. But it seemed like Zero was giving him an olive branch, so he simply nodded. 

“Yeah, we’re cool,” he resigned and joined the baller on the couch. 

They spent the rest of the morning eating and watching Cartoon Network. Once his anger dissipated, Jude had to admit he was glad to see Zero. Inappropriate dreams and teasing aside, Zero was good company. He was easy to talk to, generous, and surprisingly thoughtful. Jude watched Zero clear the takeout containers from the table and go into the kitchen. He returned with two mugs of coffee. 

“So why are you really here?” Jude asked, accepting the coffee gratefully and taking a sip. It had been two hours since Zero came to his apartment uninvited, and they hadn’t talked about business or the interview in all that time. Zero averted his eyes.

“I was bored,” he laughed a little. 

“What about Jelena?” Jude wondered out loud because yeah, he knew all about the disastrous so-called ‘relationship’. “Trouble in paradise?” Zero shrugged. 

“We’re not exactly friends.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking at the TV without really watching it. “She comes by. We have a good time.” He raised his brows suggestively, and Jude rolled his eyes. “I ask her out. She says no. It’s kind of an inside joke between us.” Somehow Jude didn’t think Zero found it very funny. 

“Sounds healthy,” said Jude sarcastically. “Why are you chasing her anyway? She’s kind of a...”

“A cold-hearted, sociopathic bitch?” Zero finished and smiled without humor. “Yeah, but it’s all part of The Plan.” 

“The Plan?”

“It’s like you said in Ohio, remember? L.A. is a land of opportunity. With Terrance and Derek already on shaky ground, all I have to do is tip them over the edge. Then —” He mimed flipping the table. “I make captain and take the team.” Jude wasn’t surprised. He knew Zero had had a plan all along. He had to hand it to the guy for being ambitious. 

“So what? You think dating Jelena will distract Terrance from your mutiny?” Zero smiled, obviously pleased that Jude was clever enough to piece it together. 

“That’s part of it,” he said without volunteering more. They sat watching the screen in silence. Jude wondered why he felt a sense of relief knowing that Jelena wasn’t a serious relationship for Zero. What did it matter who Zero dated, as long as he continued to make money for the agency? Jude stole a glance at the baller and felt something warm in his chest at seeing Zero smiling and glancing at Jude in return. Who was he kidding? Zero was obviously more than just a client to him. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say Zero was becoming a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude thinks it’s time to start dating again like a normal person, but he struggles to ask Raquel out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I thought it would be fun to explore Jude being in the dark about his sexuality. Feedback is welcome!
> 
> Edit: I added a few things since my original post. Hopefully it will read a little smoother now.

“I got your back,” Derek said dismissively. He opened the club door, and the sound of EDM and women’s laughter momentarily filled the alleyway. It shut with a loud thud, and Jude was left all alone in the deluge. He was standing under a shallow awning. His suit was splattered with stray raindrops. His hair was messy from nervous fingers running through it. 

He wanted to trust Derek, but he knew the baller was unstable at best, and a hot-headed coke addict at worst. Not even Ahsha Hayes, L.A.’s Girl-Next-Door, could change that. The only way to guarantee Derek’s cooperation was to implicate him in the crime. Jude told Derek that he knew about Olivia’s blackmail. He warned the baller that if they didn’t vouch for each other, Derek would lose his career, and Jude would be imprisoned for distribution. He didn’t want to say, “If I go down, I’m taking you with me,” but he implied it. 

The door opened again and a couple of guys stumbled out. They lit a cigarette each and took a long drag. One leaned against the wall, giving Jude a once-over. He whispered something to his friend whole stole a glance at Jude and giggled. Jude didn’t appreciate the scrutiny, but they were young and most likely stoned, so he didn’t feel threatened. He wanted nothing more than to close out his tab and go home. When he made to open the door, the voyeur stepped in his way. 

“Hey suit,” the guy said in a slurred, high-pitched voice. “Wanna play army?” He leaned into Jude and whispered sloppily, “You can lie down and I’ll blow the hell outta you.” Jude’s lips tightened in annoyance. 

“Don’t you have homework to do?” Because they guy looked scrawny and young enough to be in high school. He looked vaguely familiar, and Jude wondered if he was some up-and-coming artist, the new Justin Bieber or whatever, but he didn’t care enough to remember. He didn’t wait for a reply. Pushing past, he opened the door and re-entered the club. He could hear the guy’s friend laughing and saying “Dude, that was so lame!” 

Jude pressed through the crowd. The club was packed with attractive people. Models, celebrities, and athletes alike gyrated their hips to the pulsing music. A beautiful blonde, clearly intoxicated, laced her fingers around Jude’s neck and started dancing seductively. Jude smiled politely and tried to untangle himself. He was almost free when he felt hands encircle his hips and a male body pressed into him from behind. “Jesus,” Jude sputtered and jerked himself away from the two of them. 

He was almost at the bar when he ran into Zero.

“Jude,” Zero said with what sounded like relief. “Long time no see.” Jude swallowed hard. He was glad to see Zero, but he’d had enough of this place and didn’t want another problem to worry about. 

“Hey Zero,” he said casually and made to move away. Zero grabbed Jude’s arm to stop him from leaving. 

“Hold up,” he said. They both looked down at Zero’s grip. The baller dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “How are you?” Jude huffed in disbelief. It seemed like everyone in this place, including Zero, was acting strange. Almost desperate.

“I’m fine,” Jude said shortly. “Tired.” Zero nodded and continued to look at Jude expectantly. “I was going to head home...” Jude glanced sideways to see Derek chatting nearby. He was surrounded by half a dozen women, all laughing and posing for press photos. Goddamn it, Jude thought viciously. Just last week, Derek’s secret relationship with Ahsha Hayes was leaked to TMZ, and Jude and Lionel had to strategize a way out of getting her fired from the Devil Girls. Who was going to believe their Romeo and Juliet story when they see photos of Derek flirting with models a few days later?

“Jude?” Jude snapped out of his reverie and turned back to Zero. The baller had a look of concern. “Are you okay? Do you need a ride home?” Jude shook his head.

“No, I’m okay.” He said quickly. “Just need some air. I’ll see you later.” He pushed his way past Zero, paid his tab, and left as fast as he could without further interruptions. 

...

Jude was exhausted by the time he got home. He let out a long-suppressed sigh, took off his rain-soaked suit, and loosened his tie. “What a day,” he said to the empty apartment. He walked to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he took out last night’s leftovers and went to microwave them directly in their takeout container. As he waited for the food to warm, he leaned against the kitchen counter and checked his phone. 

Zero: “Hey, you looked off tonight. Anything I can do to help? We should talk soon.” 

Jude smiled at the text. He felt guilty about walking away. He missed talking to Zero, and come to think of it, they had some business to discuss. Thanks to Jude, Zero recently signed a contract with Giorgio Armani to star in their new fragrance campaign. Luxury companies like Armani didn’t gravitate towards American athletes, but Jude was able to convince them that Zero wasn’t a typical jock. Several meetings, phone calls, negotiations later, and Zero was officially the Armani spokesmodel of the year. It was an amazing opportunity. It capitalized on Zero’s good looks and opened doors into the international luxury market.

Speaking of, Jude opened an email from Giorgio Armani’s creative team. Attached were several photos from the photoshoot that the team had sent as a courtesy. Jude downloaded the attachments and felt his breath hitch.

The campaign was inspired by James Bond in the Bahamas. The photo shoot included multiple scenes. Zero in a custom tux playing poker. Zero smiling at the femme fatale over martinis. Zero horseback riding on the beach. All were winners, but none compared to the photo that the creative director had starred. Zero emerging from the sea with his skin glistening under the tropical sun, his hair wet and tousled, his body that of a Greek god, wearing nothing but a scrap of fabric that the Europeans considered swim trunks..

The microwave beeped. Jude quickly forwarded the email to Zero with a congratulations. Then he pocketed the phone and tried to clear the image of Zero from his mind. He took his food out of the microwave and headed to the backdoor. One of Jude’s favorite features about his apartment was an enclosed courtyard. It had a small awning surrounded by palms and a few flowering bushes Jude couldn’t name. An outdoor table and a couple of chairs had been left by the previous renter. Jude sat at the table, watching the trees sway in the storm. It was nice just to sit outside, eat good food, and listen to the rain. But after awhile, he found himself opening the Armani attachment again and staring at Zero’s picture.

“What am I doing?” He asked himself out loud and shoved the phone away. Jude didn’t know what to think anymore. Sometimes it felt like he was obsessed with Zero. He thought about him constantly. His scent, his voice, his laugh...Jude shook his head. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to _be_ Zero or _be with_ Zero. But that wasn’t right. He’d never been with a man before. He wasn’t gay. He sighed and took his head in his hands. “You’re just tired and lonely,” he said to himself. “You need to get out there like a normal person.” With renewed determination, Jude picked up the phone, closed out of Zero’s photos and searched for Raquel Saldana on Facebook, strategizing for the best way to ask her out on Monday.

...

Jude was at the Devil’s Arena bright and early on Monday morning. Oscar had wanted to see him. They greeted each other formerly in Oscar’s office and made their way down to the Playground.

“This week is extremely important to me.” Oscar said, weaving between tables towards the bar. “I want you involved.” Jude was surprised.

“For Family Day?” Every year, the Devil’s hosted a Family Day game. It included ticket discounts, pre-game activities, and a Devil’s family representative. “Of course.” He said quickly. Was Oscar suggesting for Jude fill that role as his son? Was he going to make their relationship public?

“No, not that,” Oscar said dismissively. Jude tried to hide his disappointment. “You’ll work with Raquel on the Roast.” They approached the bar and Raquel greeted them warmly. Jude was glad to see her. He was planning on finding her and asking her out on a date after his meeting with Oscar. The fact that Oscar wanted them to work together was nothing short of fate.

“What do you need?” She asked, finding a spiral notebook and a pen to take notes.

“The governor is confirmed to attend,” Oscar said importantly. “Which means we have to run a background check on all the Playground staff,” he continued. Jude noticed Raquel’s smile falter for a second. “Put together a list so Jude can run point.” She nodded.

“I’ll get that to you today,” Raquel said, jotting a few more things down. “What were you thinking for decor?” Oscar was about to answer, but the sound of stiletto heels on the Playground floor got their attention. Kyle was stomping towards them like a runway model on a catwalk.

“I was told to see a man about a horse,” she said in her Southern drawl. Oscar beamed with pleasure. Jude suppressed a grimace. Kyle was the type of Devil Girl who slept her way to the top. He didn’t want to know the nature of her relationship with his father. He walked away, wanting to stay and talk to Raquel, but not wanting to overhear Oscar’s private affairs. He decided to catch Raquel some other time. He was a junior agent to more than just basketball players. It was time he got back to the office and play catch up.

...

Jude was working at his desk when he received an email from Raquel. He quickly scanned the list and noticed that her name wasn’t on it. Jude was glad for the omission. It meant he had a good excuse to return to the Arena and talk to her again.

“Nice work, Jude.” Jude lifted his head to see his boss, Mr. Thomson smiling down at him.

“Sir?”

“The Armani campaign. Was that your idea?”

“Uh, yes sir.” Jude stammered. “I thought Zero’s image had potential to go international.” Mr. Thomson nodded thoughtfully.

“He does have a certain star quality, doesn’t he?” Jude smiled in agreement. “You might want to look into the East Asian market, they love blonde hair and blue eyes, even if it is peroxide.” Jude nodded and jotted down _S. Korea?_ on his notepad. “Oh, and Jude,” Mr. Thomson said, turning back. “Since you’re our point person at the Arena, I’d like you to attend the Roast next week and run interference should anything go wrong.”

“You got it, sir.” Jude answered eagerly. Even though he was a junior agent, the boss had asked him to supervise the event and not Lucus or Kevin, the senior agents that represented Derek and Zero respectively. Jude continued working for the rest of the day, humming the Devil’s Anthem.

...

“Raquel,” Jude called out. He’d just stepped through the Arena doors, when he spotted her across the entrance hall. He jogged to catch up. “Hey, I saw the list of Playground employees.” He said slightly out of breath. “I noticed one name missing. Yours.” Raquel shifted uncomfortably from heel to heel.

“I guess I was so focused on everyone else...” she said through a tight smile. Jude waved her off.

“It’s fine, I had you added.” He hesitated. He wanted to ask her out. Now was as good as ever. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but for whatever reason, it was impossible to speak. Raquel looked nervous, and Jude wondered if she could hear his inner struggle. He decided to abandon his mission before it got too awkward. He turned around under the pretense of visiting Oscar even though he was only there to see her.

“Actually,” she called out, and Jude turned back. “It wasn’t entirely a mistake. It’s so embarrassing...” She laughed nervously. “I have a ton of parking tickets. I could risk the embarrassment but if I get pulled from the party over it, the Roast would fall apart.” She looked at him through her lashes. “Oscar wouldn’t like it very much,” she added. For a moment, Jude wondered if she was telling the truth. It seemed like a flimsy excuse. How many parking tickets could she possibly have? But he didn’t want to compromise her opinion of him.

“I don’t want to give him the headache...” He smiled and said, “I think we could leave your name off it this time.” The tension seemed to drop and she signed in relief.

“Thank you.”

...

It was raining again. Jude sat at his outdoor table eating a Caesar salad he’d picked up after work. His cellphone chimed, and he glanced at it casually, not expecting anything that couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

Zero: “I’m outside. Let me in before I drown.” Jude stared in disbelief. Why was Zero here? It was 8pm on a Monday. Didn’t he have anything better to do?

Zero: “Seriously, take your time. It’s only a mild Tsunami out here.” Jude stood up quickly and covered his salad with the takeout lid. He brought the food inside, dusted crouton crumbs off of his shirt, and went to open the door.

“Hey,” he said lightly when he saw the soaking wet Zero on the other side. The baller didn’t look too happy. He pushed passed Jude and stood dripping in the entryway.

“I must have knocked for five minutes,” he said sulking. He was carrying a wet grocery bag, which he set on the floor, and looked down at himself in annoyance. He gathered what he could of his shirt and wrung the water out onto the floor. Jude rushed to stop him.

“Hold on,” he said quickly and ran into the bathroom. He came back with a towel. “Here,” he said handing it to Zero. “Sorry I didn’t hear you. I was eating dinner outside. The rain...” but he lost his train of thought because Zero was stripping down to his boxer briefs and using the towel to dry off. Jude stared, unable to speak. It was like a weird re-enactment of the Armani photoshoot in this living room.

“I could use a change of clothes,” Zero said, apparently not noticing Jude’s abrupt silence. He was busy rearranging his hair. He looked genuinely put out at having it ruined. “Jude?” Jude jumped.

“Yeah?”

“The clothes?” Zero asked with a raised brow.

“Right,” Jude sprang into action. He went to his closet and got out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He came back and handed the items to Zero, trying desperately to avert his eyes from the only bit of clothing Zero still had on.

“What brings you by?” He asked casually, looking at the storm outside instead of the baller. He could hear Zero shuffling into his clothes.

“I thought we’d celebrate the Armani campaign.” Zero said as he tugged the sweatshirt over his head. “Soon every housewife around the globe will be putting my face in her sock drawer.” He chuckled at his own joke. Jude figured it was safe to look at him again, but the sight of Zero in his clothes did something strange to his insides.

“This is nice,” Zero said appreciatively, inspecting the baby blue sweatshirt and gray joggers. “Nike?” Jude huffed.

“Target.”

“You don’t say...” Zero said with a nod of approval. “Well, I brought a few things to make for dinner.” He picked up the grocery bag and headed to the kitchen without waiting for Jude’s permission. Jude was shocked, unsure if he heard correctly.

“Make?” He asked, following Zero. The baller was unloading groceries onto the kitchen counter. Jude noticed chicken breast, bell peppers, dark leafy greens...

“You’re about to get the full _Zero experience_.” Zero said over his shoulder. He pulled out the last item - a six pack of light beer - reserved two and put the rest in the fridge. He popped the caps off against the counter and handed a bottle to Jude. “Cheers.” He smiled and took a long swig.

“I have a bottle opener...” Jude protested weakly but accepted the drink. He watched helplessly as the baller preheated the oven and rummaged through his kitchen to find a roasting pan and a glass bowl. It wasn’t until Zero was marinating the chicken that Jude remembered he’d already had dinner. “Zero...” he started, unsure of what to say exactly. Zero had steamrolled his way into Jude’s apartment without notice. Again. He wasn’t sure he minded, but he felt like he should say something. “I’ve already eaten,” he finished lamely. Zero looked up from his task.

“What, that?” He pointed to Jude’s leftover salad with disdain. “That’s rabbit food, Jude. First Corinthians 6:19 ‘Do you know your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit —‘“

“Oh, come off it.” Jude interrupted, but he was smiling.

...

Dinner was delicious. Zero was a surprisingly great cook. Their plates empty, the two sat in front of the Tv, watching Sports Network in companionable silence.

“Thank you,” Jude said finally. Zero glanced over.

“For what?”

“For this,” Jude indicated the spread on the coffee table. Zero shrugged.

“I should be the one thanking you. You’ve done more for me as a junior agent in one month than Kevin has since I came to California. You’re the real MVP, Jude.” Jude flushed with pleasure.

“You know what my boss said this morning?”

“What?”

“He said you have star quality.”

“Really?” Zero asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Mm-hmm,” Jude said, trying to keep a straight face.

“And what do you think?” Zero leaned in, his gaze suddenly too intense. 

“Oh, I knew you had star quality since the moment I scouted you in Ohio.” Jude said, taking a drink of his beer for liquid courage. “I’ve been Team Zero ever since.” Jude looked away, embarrassed that he had said too much but not before he caught a glimpse of Zero’s face. He looked at Jude with unbridled awe. Like he couldn’t believe someone thought so much of him.

“Oh Jude,” Zero put a hand to his chest, teasing. “You really know the way to a man’s heart.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude knows that Jelena means trouble, but he can’t convince Zero to stay away. Oh, and he finally goes on a date with Raquel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Lots of plot to unpack in this chapter and the next. I’m trying to fill it with more Jude and Zero moments, but I think it’s important to see what Jude has to deal with at work to truly understand his decisions and lack of personal life. Feedback is welcome!

The Roast was a disaster. It started out well. Kyle did an amazing job with the decorations fit for a Roman Emperor. Derek sat centerstage on a gilded throne, the focus of the night’s event and the butt of all the jokes. Everyone was in good spirits because of the Devil’s recent victory. The drinks were strong and the punchlines landed. But it was Jude’s job to be observant, and he watched Derek’s mood turn from obliging, to irritated, to seething. 

“Well, after last night’s performance,” said the standup comedian. “The Devil’s are thinking about renaming the Roman Emperor: The Billion Dollar BJ.” The audience laughed. Jude watched Derek stiffen. The muscles in his jaw clenched. “Because he didn’t handle any balls! He just got paid a lot to suck.” The comedian continued, completely unaware. That’s when the shit hit the fan. 

Zero made a grandiose entrance and laughed uproariously at the joke. Derek leapt out of his throne and got up in Zero’s face. The crowd hushed, feeling the sudden tension in the room. 

“You wanna laugh?” Derek said aggressively. “Go ahead. Laugh now.” He was sporting for a fight. Zero smirked and continued to play the innocent bystander, but Jude knew Zero wasn’t innocent. He was provoking Derek on purpose. 

“Matt 5:22. “Anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgement.” Zero said in an irritating, holier-than-thou voice. 

“Shut your mouth,” growled Derek. Jude got up to interfere, but Terrance stepped in. 

“That’s enough, Derek,” he said with finality. They were making a scene, and people were starting to whisper amongst themselves. Instead of backing down, Derek raised his voice and pointed a finger at Terrance’s chest. 

“You know what I’ve had enough of? You. Backing everyone else up but me.”

“I’m backing the people who are helping me win,” Terrance said in low voice, trying to restrain the Roman Emperor from making a bigger fool of himself than he already had. 

“He’s not here to help you,” Derek shouted and pointed at Zero. “He’s here to help himself.” Jude didn’t need to hear the rest to know where this was going. Derek shoved Terrance, and Terrance reciprocated by shoving Derek back, hard. The 6’3”, two-hundred pound athlete crashed into a nearby table. Onlookers screamed, glass shattered, and food went flying. 

“Derek!” Ahsha shouted. 

“It’s not a party until someone’s under the table,” Kyle said with a forced laugh. She rushed over to shoo the offending players and help the guests clean up. She motioned for the music and drink service to continue. Jude stared at Zero. What the hell was he thinking? They made eye contact, and Jude mouthed the question, but Zero just shrugged and flashed his pearly whites. 

The evening went from bad to worse. Just as things settled down, and the comedian showed a funny slideshow of Derek’s childhood photos, a not-so-funny photo came onscreen. Sloan — Coach Davenport’s ex-wife and original Devil Girl — was pictured at a party, slumped on the floor, topples and with a needle in her forearm. There was a collective gasp. 

Jude glanced at Zero in time to see him share a conspiratorial look with Jelena. Fuck, thought Jude. How was Zero involved and why? Zero was underestimating Jelena. She wasn’t just a Devil’s Girl. She was the Cercei Lannister to their Game of Thrones. She was just using Zero for who knows what. While she was outside Jude’s circle, he recognized a strong player when he saw one. 

The projector turned off, and Kyle hurried onstage to distract the audience again. Jude wanted to stop by Zero’s table for a word when his phone rang. It was an unknown number. He ducked outside to take the call. It was Derek. Ahsha had been arrested for possession. It was all his fault, and he was a wreak. Fuck, thought Jude for the second time that evening and lunged into crisis control. It was going to be a long night. 

...

Jude stood in the Devil’s Arena, waiting for practice to be over. He was texting furiously with his agency, trying to get Derek’s recent disaster under wraps, but he didn’t forget about Zero. They needed to talk, and Jude had to warn Zero about Jelena. He knew this wasn’t going to end well. He knew Jelena was using Zero, and even though Zero started the relationship as a play, he was getting obsessed and stupid. 

Jude tucked his phone into his suit jacket and glanced up. The players were filing through the door on their way to the locker room. They were sweaty and exhausted. Pete must have drilled them hard with the quarter finals so close in sight. Jude spotted Zero. He was tired just like the rest of them, but when their eyes met, Zero’s shuffle turned to a strut and he offered his characteristic smirk in a way of greeting. 

Jude pulled Zero to the side with a “We need to talk,” as an explanation. The other players didn’t pay them any attention. Zero stood in front of Jude with a knowing look, a little sheepish but unapologetic. “What were you thinking getting into a fight with Derek at the Roast?”

“He was out of control.” Zero said half-heartedly. “He came at me —“ Jude cut him off with a wave.

“This is me you’re talking to.” He said impatiently. “Derek’s a client at my agency too. You need to be more careful or I have to deal with the blowback.” Zero’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the Roman Emperor. He glanced behind to make sure there wasn’t anyone within earshot. When the coast was clear, he took a step forward, and Jude had to fight the urge to retreat. He could smell a combination of Zero’s deodorant and musk, and it left him feeling lightheaded and uneasy. 

“Jude,” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone. “You and I came into this with a plan. You need to trust me.” Jude swallowed hard. He trusted Zero, but _they_ weren’t working on a plan together. Sure, Jude had given Zero intel on the rift between Derek and Terrence, and maybe he implied that Zero could capitalize on the said rift and rise to the top, but he didn’t know Zero’s exact strategy. Frankly, Jude thought the baller’s approach was short-sighted. Zero should be making friends on the court, not enemies. He should be dating a quirky supermodel-turned-actress and not a conniving, ambitious Devil’s Girl. He wanted tell Zero how he really felt, but the title of “junior agent” stuck in his throat. He was still a little fish in a big pond. His opinion didn’t hold weight against a multi-millionaire professional basketball player, even if they were friends. 

“Just be careful.” He said, looking into Zero’s eyes and hoping that his message was getting through loud and clear. “I risked a lot for you.” For a second, Jude thought Zero was going to take another step closer, but instead the baller squeezed Jude’s arm in reassurance.

“Relax, I got you.” 

...

Shortly after Zero left, Raquel approached him and, to his surprise, asked him out. So Jude went on a date. An actual date. With a girl. Like a normal person. Trying to impress, he took her to Arianna’s the next day. It was an elegant, nature-themed restaurant with an extensive and expensive wine menu. 

Raquel looked beautiful, and despite Jude’s mind racing with the latest crisis being Lionel Davenport refusing to appear to any more games, he managed to relax and enjoy their conversation. Raquel was easy to talk to. Kind and attentive, she was the perfect woman, thought Jude. He half expected to feel flustered or nervous on their date, but talking to Raquel was like talking to his mom. Effortless. The fact that Raquel was a mother herself meant that she didn’t want to rush into a physical relationship, and Jude was more than happy to take things slow. 

...

Later that evening, Jude was vacuuming his apartment and thinking about Raquel. He felt elated that it had gone so well. He wondered where to take her on their second date. Should he stick to tradition and go to a movie? Or do something exciting, like zip-lining or rock climbing? Should he invite her son? Jude stopped vacuuming and stood in the middle of his living room contemplating the idea of being a father-figure. After the initial shock at the prospect, Jude realized that he wanted to be a father. He wanted children. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a text. He took the vibrating phone out of his pant pocket and glanced at the message. As usual, seeing Zero’s name did weird things to his insides. It happened so often, that Jude barely paid attention to it anymore. 

Z: “What are you up to?”

J: “Nothing much, why?”

Z: “Feeling antsy. Wanna get a drink?” 

J: “It’s a weekday, and you have a game tomorrow.”

Z: “I won’t tell the coach if you don’t. Come on. I’ll buy.”

J: “Fine, but just one drink.” 

Z: “Kieran’s Pub on 5th Ave.” 

...

The bar was a twenty minute drive from Jude’s house. He expected Zero to chose a celebrity hangout with specialty cocktails and VIP seating. Instead, it was a neighborhood watering hole with a good selection of local beer and sticky barstools. He spotted Zero at a booth with a pint in hand. He was wearing a baseball cap and casual clothes. Jude had to admit, the baller looked comfortable in his surroundings. He looked like a regular Jo — albeit, a very attractive one — but the other customers weren’t paying him any attention.

Jude slid into the seat opposite Zero and tipped his chin to the glass. 

“What are you drinking?” He asked. 

“Try it,” Zero offered.

Jude did and nodded appreciatively. The beer tasted hoppy with a hint of citrus. Zero signaled the waitress to bring a pint for Jude an an appetizer for the table. A live band started playing nearby, and the two nursed their drinks, grazing on pub fries all the while listening to the lead vocalist bellow out a shanty. At the refrain, Jude was surprised to see Zero and the other patrons pound the table and sing along like they knew the song by heart. He couldn’t help but laugh. After a few more songs, Jude finally turned to Zero and asked about Zero’s text. Why was he feeling antsy? The baller shrugged.

“Are you worried about the game tomorrow?” Jude pried. 

“Against Houston? Please.” Zero said, but his voice lacked the usual bravado. “Let’s talk about something else.” He took a long pull on his beer. 

“Okay,” Jude said with a huff. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about you?” Zero said casually, and Jude felt his stomach clench. “What did you do today?” 

“Me?” Jude shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He still found Zero’s undivided attention too intense and unsettling. “Let’s see...I worked from home for part of the day. Swung by the Arena to speak to Lionel — she’s giving up on Pete and the Devil’s, and I have to come up with a way to make her stay. I figure, a lot of flowers and groveling should do the trick.” Zero smirked and picked at the appetizer. 

“Pete. What a fucking rockstar.” He mumbled around a mouthful of cheesy potato. Jude laughed in agreement. 

“Tell me about it. Lionel, Sloan, and Raquel — well, maybe not Raquel.” Zero raised his eyebrows, and Jude shrugged. “She and I went on a date this afternoon. So I think it’s safe to say she’s over Pete.” Zero studied Jude with squinted eyes and pursed lips. Then he relaxed and shook his head. 

“Nah, I don’t see it.” He said dismissively. Jude huffed in disbelief. 

“See what?” Jude said, feeling annoyed at Zero’s brush-off. “Am I not good enough to date a Devil’s Girl? I can if I want to, you know. Asshole.” He said under his breath and downed his beer. Zero looked like he was trying not to laugh. 

“Sure you can,” he said in an annoying, patronizing tone that made Jude’s hackles rise.

“Seriously?” Jude asked with a pointed look at the baller. “You’re one to judge. How’s it going with the missus? Ruin any more reputations?” Zero looked startled, then his eyes narrowed in anger. “What you two did to Sloan was fucked up.” There. He said it. He waited for Zero to explode, fire him, and walk away. However, after a moment of tense silence, Zero dropped his head and slumped deeper into the seat. 

“I know,” he said with a heavy sigh. Jude’s expression softened at the baller’s remorse. A part of him wanted to tell Zero it was okay, but another part of him wanted to get his point across. Jelena was a snake in the grass. 

“Zero,” he said as gently as possible. “I think you need to walk away. You’re a pawn in Jelena’s game. I don’t know what she wants, although I could hazard a guess, but she’s going to use you and spit you out. Don’t fall for it.” 

“I know.” Zero said again, clearly feeling defeated. “But I can’t. I can’t lose.” Jude was left momentarily speechless. He stared at the baller who was flagging the waitress down for a refill like his confession wasn’t a big deal. Zero knew Jelena was going to fuck him up, but he was in too deep to admit defeat. Or maybe he thought there was still a chance. Some last-minute, desperate attempt to win her over Terrance. Jude declined a second beer and stood up to leave. 

“Already?” Zero asked, staring at Jude gloomily. “Are you mad or something?” Jude shook his head.

“I hate seeing you like this. It’s like watching a car wreck and not being able to do anything about it.” He took a deep breath and held up a hand to stop Zero’s protests. “No, listen. When you crash and burn — and I use the word “when” and not “if” deliberately — just know that I’ll be there to help you. You’re not alone.” Zero smiled and looked at him thoughtfully. For a moment, Jude thought Zero was going to pull him into a hug. 

“You’re an amazing agent, Jude. The best a guy could ask for. I mean it.” It sounded heartfelt, and Jude brightened at the compliment. 

“Junior agent,” he corrected. “And thanks.” 

...

The next day, Jude went to the Playground to see Raquel. He was wearing his favorite suit and expensive aftershave for the occasion. He caught sight of her at the bar and approached in what he hoped to be a nonchalant manner. 

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the bar and smiling. “You owe me for lunch. Dinner tomorrow on you?” He was only teasing about splitting the bill. He already had a reservation and movie tickets ready. Raquel glanced up and looked uneasy. 

“Oh,” she said and worried her lip with her teeth. “I can’t.” 

“Can’t or won’t,” Jude asked, feeling confused at the sudden change of heart. 

“I had a nice time...” she said looking away. “It’s just _Pete_. I don’t think I’m over him yet.” Jude huffed in disbelief and shook his head. Was this a joke? Didn’t he just tell Zero ‘I think it’s safe to say she’s over Pete,’ last night? The words mocked him now, and he felt more foolish than ever. 

“Seems sudden,” he said dryly. “How many women in this Arena are in his harem?” She looked away again, and Jude had the distinct feeling like he was being lied to, he just didn’t know why. Suddenly, the whole date felt like a sham. He was about to ask why she even bothered asking him out when Sloan approached and interrupted their conversation. She pulled Raquel aside to talk about something, and the two women disappeared down the hallway. 

Jude was left alone at the bar. He was angry and disappointed to say the least. He thought back to the lunch date and searched for a possible explanation. There was a moment when Raquel had asked to see photos on his phone. Then he went to the car to get her a sweater because she was cold. They talked a lot about Oscar...Jude couldn’t see the connection, but something felt wrong. He decided to find Raquel and ask for the real reason. 

Jude walked down the hallway. He could hear the two women speaking in intense, quiet voices. He stopped short of being seen but still within earshot of their conversation. 

“What are you hiding from me?” He heard Sloan say. “Raquel, I swear to god...”

“Olivia had something on me.” Raquel confessed. “Something bad. She said if I didn’t stand with her at the groundbreaking...” 

“Stand with her? Raquel, do you know what Olivia had on Oscar?” Jude stiffened at the mention of his father. 

“No, she wouldn’t tell me,” Raquel said desperately. “I kept calling her that day. I was begging her to be reasonable. What she knew about me...”

“What?” Sloan hissed. “What did she know about you?” Raquel wilted under the taller woman’s glare. 

“I came into this country illegally,” she confessed. “My parents brought me here, and I never got papers.” Jude’s mind raced. It all made sense. She didn’t want Oscar to find out that she was working illegally, so she had flirted with Jude to leave her name off the list and avoid a background check for the Roast. He felt sick. 

“If anyone found out, I could be deported,” Raquel sounded near tears. “I could lose Miguel.”

“I can’t believe Olivia would hold this over your head...” Sloan said a little more gently. “I won’t tell anyone.” Jude felt his anger dissipate a little with sympathy for Raquel. That is, until he heard what she had to say next. 

“I’m still in this with you. We’re still going to take Oscar down.” Jude froze. What the hell was going on? He stepped out of hiding, anger rising to the surface all over again. Not only had Raquel used him for personal gain and faked interest in Jude to save her own ass, but she was conspiring against Oscar. He had to put an end to this. Now. 

“Take Oscar down?” He said in a raised voice to get their attention. The two women jumped. “I don’t think my father would like that very much.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude has the best and worst day of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Whew, that was a lot of plot to get through. If you like the story so far, please let me know! I’d love to have feedback!

Jude stormed into his apartment and slammed the door. He tossed the keys aside and paced the living room. Fuck. What the fuck just happened? He wanted to throw something, break something, _kill_ something. Sloan and Raquel were investigating Oscar for fraud. They were bent on taking his father down. A glorified dance director and a bartender conspiring to take down one of the richest and most powerful men in L.A.? It was a joke, but Jude wasn’t laughing. 

He wrenched open a hallway closet and dragged out a long-forgotten Everlast boxing bag into the middle of the floor. Losing his suit jacket, he cracked his knuckles, rolled his neck side to side, and proceeded to punch the shit out of the leather bag. Something ugly had taken over Jude back at the Arena, and bitter words left his mouth before he had a chance to think. He threatened to get Sloan fired. He threatened to get Raquel deported and to separate her from her son Miguel unless the two handed over every scrap of evidence they had on Oscar. His last words were, “Gather it up,” meaning the evidence. “And not a word to anyone or I start making phone calls.” 

Jude attacked the bag with alternating punches and undercuts. Sweat stung his eyes and his knuckles felt raw, but he couldn’t stop. Not yet. After their confrontation, Jude sped home before he could say or do anything else he’d later regret. He felt like a villain. Like a fucking mafioso. Jude couldn’t let his father be ruined, but he didn’t want to hurt Raquel either. Sloan was the instigator, Jude was sure of it. Suddenly he felt glad that Jelena had Sloan in her crosshairs. 

Jude slowed down and leaned against the bag in exhaustion. He felt wrecked, but at least the urge to punch a hole through the drywall was gone, so Jude figured it was safe to stop. He stood with his chest heaving, his dress shirt plastered to his pecks and back, and laughed a little hysterically because an image of Zero knocking at his apartment door popped into his mind. He imagined the baller looking him up and down and saying something about a wet T-shirt contest with a wicked grin. 

Thinking about Zero reminded Jude that he was supposed to be at the game right now. He turned on the TV and sat on the floor so he didn’t get the couch sweaty. It was a close game against Houston. The teams were neck and neck until the end. With seconds left, Zero got possession of the ball and threw a critical shot only to be milliseconds too late. The Devil’s lost. 

Watching the replay, Jude could have sworn that Zero had stalled on purpose. Since Jude couldn’t imagine why the baller would want to sabotage the game, he chalked it up to bad luck. He texted Zero with condolences, but to Jude’s disappointment, Zero didn’t reply. 

...

The next morning, Jude set out to find Raquel and make amends. She wasn’t happy to see him. 

“Raquel,” he called across the room and jogged to catch up. 

“We’re working on it,” she said tersely. 

“I know,” Jude said, trying to get her to stop walking and hear him out. “Listen, I was thinking. You’re in a tough spot being illegal —“

“I’m not illegal,” she interrupted. “I’m undocumented.” 

“Whatever,” he said impatiently. “It’s got to be hard for you.” He offered to protect Raquel against Oscar if she gave him all the evidence they had. He didn’t trust Sloan, and he knew she would double cross him at the next opportunity. But he cared about Raquel and didn’t want to hurt her or Miguel. She didn’t agree, but she didn’t say ‘no’ either. Jude took it as a good sign and walked away with a cleaner conscience. 

...

He was about to head to the office, when he finally got a text from Zero. 

Z: “Saw your car in the lot. Meet me outside Door C.” 

Jude brightened at the thought of seeing Zero. He missed the baller dropping by his apartment at random. Aside from their last meeting at the Irish Pub, they hadn’t seen much of each other lately. He headed outside and was surprised to see Zero pull up in a shiny new sports car. 

“Another Porsche?” Jude asked as the baller put the car into park and got out. Seeing Zero again was like seeing land after being shipwrecked. Jude couldn’t help but smile. 

“Nope,” Zero said leaning against the driver’s door and squinting at Jude against the sunlight. “This one’s yours.” Jude stared at the beautiful car, speechless. “Thought you’d like the color dark and tortured just like you.” 

“Wha-“ Jude began and took a step forward. Zero tossed the keys to Jude, clearly enjoying Jude’s stunned expression and fumbling attempt to catch them. “Had a conversation with the agency,” he continued. “Talked to the partners. Made it official. My agent doesn’t tow around in a crap box.” Zero walked to the passenger side, and Jude walked to the driver’s side on autopilot. He was slow to process Zero’s words. Finally he stopped and looked up at Zero abruptly. 

“Your agent?” He asked, unsure if he heard right. Zero’s smirk split into a grin. 

“Goodbye junior agent. Hello my main #1 guy.” Jude’s stomach fluttered with nerves and pleasure at Zero’s words. He looked at the baller with awe. 

“I don’t...I don’t know what to say,” he confessed. It was too much. Jude had never received anything so thoughtful or so expensive in his life. With the pressure of pleasing Oscar, fear of Olivia’s murder investigation, and the recent disaster of uncovering Sloan and Raquel’s plot against his father, Jude had started to feel like his life was one cosmic flush down the toilet. 

Jude was so lonely in L.A., so isolated from his friends and family back home, that if it wasn’t for Zero’s occasional kindness, he would have felt completely defeated by the big city. Zero smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles and looked down, seemingly embarrassed by Jude’s raw gratitude. He motioned for Jude to get in. 

Jude obliged and suppressed a moan of pleasure as he slid into the luxury leather seat. He took a moment to familiarize himself with the car’s interior. Zero watched with an amused expression as Jude ran his palms over the steering wheel in boyish wonder. He couldn’t believe his luck. What had he done to deserve a promotion and a sign on bonus worth more than his annual income? 

“I’d never be here in L.A. with the world at my feet if it wasn’t for you.” Zero said in affirmation to Jude’s silent question. “You still Team Zero?” Jude felt high from happiness. He was so giddy, he thought he could kiss the baller right then and there. 

“Absofrekenlutely,” he said laughing. 

“Good,” said Zero in mock seriousness. “Now drive me to the Arena, you lazy bitch.” Jude grinned and fastened his seatbelt. He hit the accelerator and peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing. 

...

Jude dropped Zero off in front of the main entrance. He noticed a group of reporters teeming outside and wondered what recent scandal had drawn their attention. He was about to check his google notifications when his phone lit up with an incoming call.

“Mr. Thomson?” Jude answered, surprised to hear from his boss so early in the morning. 

“Jude,” Mr. Thomson said, and Jude immediately drew himself to attention. Something was wrong. “We have a problem. An email was leaked connecting Zero to Callie Malina.”

“Callie Malina?” Jude asked, his mind racing at the implication. “The escort service?” She was the Queen of L.A.’s meat market. Notorious for renting high class girls.

“The press is going to have a field day.” Jude looked out the window and thought he could see Zero’s blond head in the middle of the swarm of reporters. “Give Zero a heads up and report to the office immediately after. Oh and Jude,” 

“Yes sir?”

“Congratulations on your promotion. You’re in the big leagues now.” 

“Thank you sir.” Jude hung up and got out of the car. He jogged up the stairs, passing Ahsha Hayes, and fought to reach Zero through the throng of reporters. 

“So L.A.’s Madam Callie Malina didn’t supply you with girls?” One asked. 

“How did your sponsor’s react?” Another shouted. 

“Is your Bible thumping Christian lifestyle just a calculated lie?” Jude reached Zero, who looked too shocked to speak. Jude placed a reassuring hand on the small of the baller’s back and began to steer him towards the Arena door. 

“Zero is late for Team Breakfast. No more questions at this time.” Once inside, Jude led them down a hallway and out of sight. He stepped back and gave Zero a moment to recover. 

“Fuck,” Zero said finally. Jude had never seen the baller look more helpless and felt an overwhelming impulse to wrap his arms around the man. He remained professional, however, knowing that this rumor attacked the very core of Zero’s image. His career was in jeopardy. 

“Is it true?” Jude asked, knowing the answer. Zero looked away and nodded. “Ok,” Jude said calmly. “We need to stay focused and get ahead of this. Team Breakfast, practice, and then the airport. That’s your schedule for today. I have a strategy meeting at the office. Don’t make any statements — public or otherwise — about this until we have everything figured out.” Zero nodded again. Jude swallowed hard. “Hey,” he said more gently. “You’re not alone, remember?” 

“I remember,” said the baller weakly. 

...

Jude ran into Sloan on his way out the Arena. He was already on edge, and something about her expression set him off. He told her to stop stalling and hand over the evidence tonight or else he’d tell Oscar about their meddling. Sloan grew pale at the mention of his father, so Jude figured he had one less problem to worry about. 

He spent the rest of the day strategizing with the agency’s PR team. Not only was Zero accused of hiring escorts, but the leaked email was dated the night of Derek’s club opening, meaning he was caught cheating on Jelena as well. His good Christian boy image was up in flames. By the afternoon, three sponsors had terminated their contract with Zero and two more were threatening to withdraw. In a matter of hours, Zero had lost an estimated 5 million dollars worth of endorsement deals. 

Zero cycled through different stages of grief as Jude updated him via texts. 

Z: “So what if they know the god thing was an act?” He texted furiously. “People love a reformed sinner if you cry enough.” 

J: “I don’t think so, Zero.” Jude wrote, knowing how unforgiving the industry could be. 

Z: “If that doesn’t work, I’ll win the championship. People forget.”

J: “Right now, that’s your best bet. Stay focused on the game. I’ll drive with you to the airport tonight to debrief.” 

...

Sloan and Raquel had outsmarted Jude. He was too distracted with Zero to see it coming. They broke into his home, found Olivia’s blackmail, and put the two and two together. It didn’t take much since Raquel’s ex husband was the one who had given Jude the coke dealer’s info. So they knew he supplied Derek with coke and threatened the use the information against him. Jude had no choice but to call a truce. No Oscar. No cops. No calls to immigration. 

Jude waited outside the Arena for Zero’s Escalade to pick him up. He was emotionally drained and exhausted. To go from having the best day of Jude’s life to one of the worst left him feeling whiplashed and raw. 

The black car pulled up and Jude got inside. Zero was waiting, obviously anxious to get an update. He smiled at Jude without humor. 

“You were right,” Zero said tonelessly. 

“About what?” 

“About Jelena. Ahsha sent the email, but Jelena was the mastermind behind it.” He laughed bitterly. “Apparently she chose Terrance over me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jude said for lack of anything better to say. He could have said ‘I told you so’, but one look at Zero, and all he wanted to do was apologize and wish things were different.

“What’s the damage?” Zero wanted to know, so Jude told him about the lost endorsement deals, the gossip rags, the odds of recovery. Zero sat at the edge of his seat, listening intently. Jude could see a myriad of emotions cross his face, from disbelief, to anger, to hopelessness. 

“She took my reputation. All my sponsors.” 

“I’ll figure something out.” Jude promised. “I’ll fix it.” 

“It’s beyond fixing!” Zero said emphatically. “I lost everything.” Jude desperately wanted to comfort Zero, but wasn’t sure how to best go about it. He leaned in, trying to sell hope in a hopeless situation. 

“Listen to me,” Jude said when Zero turned away. “Listen to me. I was Team Zero before, and I’m Team Zero now. We’re in this together. I would never leave you.” That got Zero’s attention. He looked at Jude with sad eyes and a soft smile. 

“No you wouldn’t,” he said and placed a hand on Jude’s knee. “You never have. I don’t know what I would do without you, Jude.” Looking back, Jude wasn’t sure what made him do it exactly. Was it Zero’s grief? His casual touch? His heartbreaking beauty? Whatever it was, Jude felt the last of his self-restraint evaporate, and he crossed a line he had sworn to never cross. He leaned in and kissed Zero.

For one, glorious moment, Zero kissed him back. Then the baller pulled away with a look of surprise. “Jude!” He exclaimed. “You’re gay.” It wasn’t a question. Not quite an accusation either. More like stating the obvious. 

“What?” Jude spluttered. “I’m not gay.” Zero raised his brows and smirked in a way that Jude usually found sexy. It was nothing short of infuriating now. 

“You kissed me.” He said as a matter of fact. 

“No I didn’t,” Jude’s mind raced for an explanation but came up short. “Not like that,” he said desperately. “You were upset, I just —”

“Kissed me on the mouth,” Zero said in amusement. There was no arguing with that. Jude’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. For someone supposedly good under pressure, his mind was frustratingly blank. Zero glanced outside to the Devil’s private jet. The other players were already boarding. “Jude, it’s fine. You’re gay,” he said like it was no big deal. “Be gay!” With a slap on Jude’s knee, which he took to mean ‘we’re cool, but no homo’, Zero got out of the car. Jude finally found his voice and shouted “I’m not gay!” after Zero, only to have the door slammed in his face. 

He sat in the Escalade in a daze. After a few minutes, his phone chimed with a text from Zero. 

Z: “Don’t sweat it, Jude. Everyone wants them a piece of Zero.” It was followed by a kissy emoji. Jude huffed in disbelief. Personal humiliation aside, he figured at least one good thing came out of this experience. Zero didn’t seem sad anymore. The prick was too busy teasing Jude.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude makes another friend in Lionel and comes to terms with his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! For some reason, this chapter was especially difficult to write. Hopefully it reads okay. Feedback is welcome!

“Ouch!” Jude dropped his microwave dinner and hopped on one foot. The heel of his right sock bloomed with blood. Looking down, he saw the floor was littered with broken glass near the back door. He cursed and shut his eyes in frustration. Fucking Sloan and Raquel. Fucking Zero. The whole day had been a fucking disaster, and Jude was over it. 

Wincing, he pulled out the large piece of glass buried in the bottom of his foot. He limped to the bathroom, found the first aid kit under the sink, and sat on the rim of the toilet to investigate the wound. It was large, but he didn’t think it warranted a visit to the E.D. He decided to call his mom just to make sure. She was a pediatric nurse and would know what to do. 

“Hi honey,” his mom answered happily. Jude could hear kitchen sounds in the background. She was probably washing up after a late dinner. 

“Hi mom,” he said with a shaky exhale. It was so good to hear her voice. 

“Jude? What’s wrong?” She asked and the clanking noises stopped abruptly. 

“It’s nothing, mom, don’t worry,” he said quickly. “I just stepped in some glass and wondered what to do about it.” He heard her sigh in relief. She asked more questions and then instructed him on how to clean and bandage the wound. Jude finished wrapping gauze around his foot and secured the end. He pulled on a fresh sock to hold everything in place. 

“Take 500mg of Tylenol and get a good night’s rest,” she said. “Nurse’s orders.” Jude laughed a little. 

“Ok, I will.” 

“I wish you would call more often, Jude.” She chided him softly. “I worry about you.” Jude massaged his forehead with his free hand. He felt a headache coming on. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He loved his mom more than anyone, but she didn’t agree with his decision to move out to California. She thought L.A. had too many temptations. After all, she and Oscar had divorced when he invested in the L.A. Devil’s and chose money and fame over his family. Needless to say, the two were not on good terms. “Did I tell you I got promoted?” He asked, hoping to lighten the mood. She perked up after that, so Jude told her about the well-known clients his agency represented, about Mr. Thomson and what a good boss he was to Jude, and about his raise and sign on bonus as of that morning. 

“I’m so proud of you, Jude.” She said in a choked voice. “I pray a rosary for you every night.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I love you. Call me again soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Jude agreed and made a mental note to call her at least once a week from now on. “I love you too.” 

...

Jude took Extra Strength Tylenol and waited for the effects to kick in. He laid in bed, stomach growling, temples aching, and foot throbbing. He thanked god it was Friday, and he had the weekend to recover from today. Jude made a mental inventory of everything he wanted to accomplish. Grocery shopping was at the top of the list. Hell, there was nothing but pizza in the fridge and TV dinners in the freezer. He was a grown man in his twenties. He should have a vegetable once in a while or _something_. 

Eating clean made him think of Zero because everything made him think of the baller these days. Other than the occasional beer and fries, Zero was the epitome of restraint, discipline, and hard work — at least when it came to playing ball. Jude shut his eyes in annoyance. Zero’s body was the last thing he should be thinking about, not after what happened in the Escalade a few hours ago. 

Maybe it was time to be honest, thought Jude. He thought he could ignore his attraction to Zero. He thought he could explain it away as jealousy or admiration. Obviously, his body had had a mind of its own. It wanted Zero like a man thirsted for water in the desert. It ached to kiss the baller again. To feel his perfect body. To hear his breathing grow ragged. To smell his musk and cologne - a mix that made Jude feel intoxicated. It wanted to — 

Jude’s phone chimed with a text and interrupted his lustful thoughts. He groaned in frustration. His suit pants tented and uncomfortably tight, Jude reached for his phone to read the message. 

Z: “Thinking of you.” It read, followed by another kissy emoji and an attachment. Jude opened it. It was a video of Zero doing pushups one-handed, shirtless. It was suggestive and not subtle. It didn’t take much imagination to picture himself on the receiving end of all...that...muscle. Jude watched it several times before tossing the phone aside. 

“Asshole,” he said and unzipped his pants. 

...

The next morning, Jude woke up well-rested and energetic. He picked up the broken glass, vacuumed the surrounding area, and used duct tape and cardboard as a temporary barrier across the windowpane. He left a voicemail with his super for a replacement. Afterwards, Jude took advantage of the good weather and went grocery shopping at a farmer’s market. He bought groceries that included veggies, whole grains, and and iced coffee for the road. 

Back home, Jude preheated the oven and seasoned a salmon fillet to bake for lunch. Once in, Jude leaned against the kitchen counter and checked his notifications. There was a new Instagram post from Lionel Davenport, and Jude clicked on it out of curiosity. It was a photo of Lionel sitting in her dressing room surrounded by hundreds of white orchids. The stark contrast of her jet black hair and cherry lips against the pale flowers was beautiful, in a Snow White’s funeral kind of way. Jude smiled at the caption, “Sometimes persistence pays off. Rooting for a Devil’s win tonight.” 

So ‘a lot of flowers and groveling’ really had done the trick. He was relieved and grateful that she was still willing to support the Devil’s even after her volatile, on-again, off-again relationship with Pete was finally over. He decided to text her a thank you note and still found it surreal to think that he had Lionel Davenport’s personal cellphone number in his contacts. 

J: “Thank you,” he texted simply; then added, “Oscar and I look forward to seeing you at the games again.” Lionel replied almost immediately. 

L: “I’m not doing this for Oscar.” Jude frowned. 

J: “Then what changed your mind?” 

L: “Mostly boredom,” she replied quickly. “And as I’m sure you know, orchids are my favorite flowers.” Jude laughed out loud. He did know. Just like he knew her favorite color was emerald green, her star sign was Aries, and her drink of choice was a dirty martini. 

J: “They suit you,” he sent the text and wondered if that was the right thing to say. He hoped it didn’t come across as flirtatious. Lionel was a remarkably beautiful woman, but he didn’t think of her in _that_ way. 

L: “They do, don’t they?” She texted. “I’m staying at the Ritz tonight for an interview. Why don’t you join me for a cocktail and we can catch up?” Jude huffed and stared at his phone in disbelief. Cocktails with _the_ Lionel Davenport? Then he told himself to pull it together. He was an agent. He had connections, and now drinks apparently, with the Hollywood elite. 

J: “I’d love to.”

L: “Good. I hate drinking alone. It’s a lot less fun than it looks. See you at 8?” 

J: “Looking forward to it.” 

...

Jude felt like an imposter from the moment he’d stepped into the hotel bar and lounge. The lighting was intimate, the seating was an elegant mix of modern and classic, and the panoramic view of the city was breathtaking. His eyes panned across the room and stopped when they spotted Lionel sitting at a corner table. Dressed in a slinky silver dress, her hair in a French twist, she looked stunning. She fluttered her fingers in greeting and inclined her head at the scotch in front of the empty seat opposite her. 

Their conversation was formal at first. They discussed the weather, L.A. traffic, and the Devil’s. However, after a few drinks, Lionel started getting personal. She was in the middle of a press tour to promote her latest movie, and she was worried it was a total flop. 

“I don’t know where it all went wrong,” Lionel said, exasperated. “The director was supposed to be the next Stanley Kubrick. Clooney wouldn’t shut up about the guy!” She punctuated the sentence with a sip of her martini. Her third. “Is it funny? Is it political? Who knows! I mean, where is the line between satire and kitsch?”

“It’s a fine line,” Jude agreed, not 100% sure he was following. 

“It’s razor thin. I swear, if the critics call me out for overacting, I’m going to kill Clooney’s boy genius.” 

Jude nodded and finished his drink. He felt his phone vibrate through his sports jacket. He ignored it because it would be impolite to check in front of Lionel and because he knew exactly who the message was from. Zero had been texting him all evening leading up to the game. Jude had read a few of the texts discretely when Lionel was in the powder room, and rolled his eyes at Zero’s attempts to get his attention. The more he ignored the texts, the more unprofessional they became until they were downright explicit. Lionel was mid-sip and raised a perfectly arched brow in interest. 

“Jude Kinkade, that is the fifth time your phone has vibrated, and the fifth time you’ve flushed scarlet. So...” she leaned in with her chin in hand. “Who are you sexting and are there nudes?” 

“W-what?” Jude stammered and no doubt flushed for the sixth time. “It’s nothing,” he said without meaning to sound so defensive. 

“Oh sweetie,” she said knowingly. “If you say so.” She shrugged and dropped the subject, for which Jude was very grateful. Lionel drained her martini and slid the two olives into her mouth. She savored the taste, toying with the spear before dropping it into the empty glass. “Mmmm. Three is my cutoff. Otherwise I get maudlin. Come on,” she stood and extended her hand to Jude. “We have a game to watch.” 

To Jude’s surprise, Lionel intended to watch the game in her hotel suite. He felt awkward at first, wondering if this was a come-on or an invitation to spend the night, but Lionel continued to treat him like a friend, so he managed to relax in front of the TV, drink a beer from the mini fridge, and enjoy the game. Before tip off, he sent Zero a brief, professional text wishing him good luck without acknowledging any of the previous messages. He knew Zero’s phone was in his locker, and he most likely wouldn’t see it until well after the game, but it didn’t feel right not to say anything at all. 

The Devil’s were on fire. They played so well that their opponents started to play dirty in frustration. Terrance was tripped during the second half. His fall looked particularly painful, and he was out for the remainder of the game because of the injury. Both Derek and Zero looked pissed, but the assistant coach, German, encouraged them to play a clean game and take advantage of each foul shot. Jude glanced at Lionel to ask ‘where was Pete?’, but she just shrugged and poured herself a second glass of wine. The Devil’s won 135 to 109. 

Even at an away game, reporters targeted Zero during the post-game interviews. He dodged questions regarding the prostitution scandal and Jelena and stuck to talking ball. Zero knew how to turn on the charm, so the reporters left feeling rebuffed but unable to be mad him. Jude felt proud of the baller for keeping his cool and dealing with the press so graciously.

Soft snores got his attention, and he looked over to see Lionel asleep on the couch. She looked cold and uncomfortable, and a half-empty wine glass threatened to slip from her fingers. Jude debated what to do. Finally, he reached for the glass and carefully extracted it without spilling any wine. He scooped her up in his arms, marveled at how light she felt, and carried her to the bedroom. She woke up when he set her gingerly on the bed. Moaning and stretching lazily on the comforter, her heavy-lidded eyes found his. 

“Jude...” she purred. 

“Lionel,” he answered soberly. 

“You can stay...” she suggested and traced the neckline of her dress. Jude shook his head, not unkindly. She was lonely too, and he recognized her hunger for human connection as his own.

“You are beautiful,” He said as a matter-of-fact and reached to unbuckle her silver heels. “And drunk.” He set the shoes down by the edge of the bed. “And I learned the slogan ‘consent is sexy’ in high school,” he joked, giving her a chaste kiss on the forehead when she protested.

“You are such a Boy Scout,” she slurred and went back to sleep.

...

Jude dialed the front desk and arranged a wake up call for Lionel before seeing himself out. His drive home was quiet and contemplative. He wasn’t sure when, but at some point between kissing Zero and leaving Lionel, Jude’s brain came to its own conclusions. He knew three things for certain: 1) he was most likely gay 2) he was most likely in love with Zero, and 3) if he wanted a chance at a normal relationship, he had to distance himself from the baller. 

He wasn’t sure which realization was more painful. Was it being gay and knowing that his religious mother and conservative father would never approve? Was it loving someone and knowing the love is one-sided and would never amount to anything? Or was it having to walk away from someone who was the freaking sun in Jude’s solar system? 

Jude parked the Porsche outside of his apartment building but didn’t go in. Hands still on the wheel, he stared out the windshield into nothing in particular. It was time to be honest with himself. He was lonely. Had been for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know what it felt like to be loved, to be caressed, to be someone’s someone. And he wanted to know. _Needed_ to know. Because as much as he tried to fill the void with school, work, and grand ambitions...none of those things satisfied. 

With a sigh, Jude swore to get over Zero and make room for someone else. He was about to get out of his car when his phone buzzed with a text. 

Z: “Thanks for the good luck. That victory got me all hot and bothered.” Kissy emoji. Attached was a photo of Zero in the shower, smirking into the camera like it was his goddam job. Jude closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a thud. 

“Fuck,” he whispered brokenly. Zero wasn’t going to make this easy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude and Zero’s first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, am I right? I have no idea what happened. I pictured their first time completely different, but sometimes the characters want what the characters want. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is welcome! Happy New Year!
> 
> Fair warning, things get explicit!

Jude wasn’t naive, he was just single-minded. He didn’t know how to be gay because he’d never thought about it until now. Lionel had been right, he was a Boy Scout. He liked to be prepared. So he spent all of Sunday educating himself on the topic. His research prompted him to got to Target and buy condoms, lube, and fiber supplements. He was too embarrassed to go to the cashier line, so he went to the self-checkout line instead. Only, something was wrong with the machine, and a Target employee had to help him scan each item all over again. He finally left, his face matching the color of the store walls, and hurried to his car feeling like everyone knew the contents of his shopping bag. 

...

The next day, determined to keep his distance from Zero, Jude avoided going to the Arena. That is, until one of his coworkers tipped him off that Zero was sitting on the sidelines of an important photoshoot instead of starring in it. Jude gritted his teeth and wondered when he was going to catch a break. Ten minutes later, he marched on set and spotted Zero fully clothed and looking petulant. The baller watched Jelena who was watching Terrance being photographed naked with nothing but a basketball to cover his privates. Jude approached Zero from behind. 

“Hey,” he said, hands on hips. “Why are you sitting here? This is Inside Sport’s Network. It’s the Skin Issue of their magazine! You’re supposed to be out there.” He gestured to the backdrop. Zero didn’t look surprised to see Jude. In fact, he looked like the cat who ate the canary. 

“I’m knee deep in prostitutes,” he said half-heartedly. “I’m thinking, naked and greased up isn’t the image I should going with right now. Everyone else seems to agree.” He glared at Jelena and Ahsha as they massaged oil onto Terrance and Derek respectively. 

“I don’t care about everyone else,” Jude said sternly. “Business as usual is exactly the image you should be going with.” He looked up and noticed the photographer’s assistant nearby. “He’s getting in,” he told the assistant, gesturing to Zero. 

“Uh,” the assistant said nervously. “We’ve already set the shot.” 

“Then unset it.” 

“We’re kind of on a tight schedule...” the guy protested. Jude squared his shoulders. 

“Well, you better get started then. Unless you want me to pull Derek.” He said in his most authoritative voice. It seemed to have worked because the guy backed down and went to talk to the photographer. 

“Alright guys,” the assistant straightened and announced to the room. “We’re switching the shot.” Jude turned back to Zero. 

“Get in there,” he said to the baller. Zero looked impressed and nodded in agreement. Jude thought he heard him mutter “yessir” under his breath. Zero stood and began to undress. With his shirt almost off, he looked back at Jude and raised his eyebrows suggestively. 

“You sure you’re not doing this just to get me naked?” 

“Haha,” Jude said without humor. He had a better comeback ready, but his throat was suddenly too dry to say anything else. He averted his gaze as Zero stripped to his boxer briefs. The baller flexed and looked back at Jude one more time. 

“Want to oil me up?” He asked, and Jude wasn’t sure he was joking. Jude shook his head and exhaled sharply through his nose. There was only so much of this he could take. He had to stay and make sure the photoshoot went without another hitch, but he couldn’t watch Zero strip down to nothing. He didn’t need that mental image. 

With a final look at the baller, Jude went to the balcony seating upstairs. He was going through his emails when a female voice got his attention. 

“Hi,” said Ahsha Hayes. “You’re Jude, right?” He looked up in surprise.

“Uh, yes.” Jude cleared his throat and extended his right hand in greeting. “I guess we haven’t been formally introduced.” 

“I’m Ahsha,” she said and shook his hand. Jude huffed. 

“I know who you are.” She was Derek’s girlfriend. She was also the girl responsible for Zero’s prostitution scandal. She had forwarded Jelena’s correspondence with Callie Malina, hoping to damage her captain. Jelena being Jelena, however, was always ten moves ahead of everyone else. She managed to maintain her saintly reputation and crush Zero’s in one fell swoop. 

“Right,” Ahsha said sheepishly. “Listen, I feel really bad about that. I know it’s hard to believe, but I didn’t mean for Zero to get hurt. I was aiming for...someone else.” 

“I believe you,” said Jude. “But it doesn’t change the fact that Zero’s career took a serious hit.” She looked guilty and averted her eyes. 

“I get that, and I’m really sorry.” She looked back at Jude. “I came up here to invite you and Zero to my housewarming party tonight. It’s nothing major, just the Devil Girls and players...and agents too?” She looked at him in question and smiled hopefully. Jude couldn’t help but soften under her charm.

“Yeah,” he said. Her smiled widened and he smiled in return. “Yeah, sure. That’d be great.” God help Derek say no to this one. He thought he had it bad with Zero. 

“Cool. I have the address and directions on Facebook. I’ll add you to the group.” 

...

Shortly after Ahsha left, Lionel came by to say hello. 

“Hey,” he answered. “What are you doing here?” She made a face and waved the leather portfolio in her hands. 

“Divorce papers.”

“I’m sorry,” Jude offered. She shrugged. 

“Don’t be. Pete and I are done.” She looked up at the ceiling, and for moment Jude wondered if she was going to cry. “Our marriage was passionate. When it was hot...” She fanned herself with the folder and looked at Jude meaningfully. “But when it was cold, well...” She made a tisk sound with her tongue and shook her head. “Let’s just say we brought out the worst in each other.” 

Jude offered her a sympathetic look, unsure of what to say next. After a minute of silence, Lionel seemed to shake it off. She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“What have you been up to?” She asked. At that moment, Zero walked up the stairs and glanced at Jude. Their eyes met, and Jude swallowed heavily. 

“Nothing,” he said, turning back to Lionel. She waited for a few seconds more then shrugged when he didn’t volunteer anything else.

“Okay,” and with a sigh that seemed to say ‘the show must go on’, she walked off towards Pete’s office.  
...

“Excuse me!” Someone called. Jude was halfway out the Arena door. He turned around and saw the photographer’s assistant running to catch up. 

“Listen,” he said, mentally preparing for the assistant to chew him out. “Sorry I had to get pushy. Just looking out for a client.” 

“Uh, no!” The guy hurried to say. “I think that was cool.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels nervously. “I think you’re cool. Like really cool.” Jude was lost. The assistant looked at him expectantly. Jude didn’t have time to deal with whatever was happening here. He cleared his throat. 

“Thanks, I gotta —” He turned to leave. 

“Hey, uh, can I get your number?” Finally, it dawned on Jude that the guy was trying to ask him out. 

“I’m not,” he hesitated and looked around. “I’m not, you know...” he said in a hushed voice. 

“Ah,” the assistant said knowingly. “One of those. Ok, well...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Just in case. I’m cool too,” he said handing Jude the business card. Jude watched him jog back to set and glanced down. It read _Danny Walker, freelance photographer_. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. Then he pocketed the card and left the Arena. 

...

Jude spent the rest of the day at the office. At noon, he sent Zero a text with details about Ahsha’s party. 

Z: “No thanks. Not interested.” 

J: “What do you mean, ‘not interested’? It’s a chance to make amends. Everyone knows the Christian persona was a fake. They need to get to know the real you.” 

Z: “Are you going?”

J: “Yeah, Ahsha invited us both.”

Z: “Fine. I’ll meet you at your place.” Jude swore and tossed the phone on his desk. Meghan from accounting gave him a funny look. He smiled apologetically. What was Zero’s problem? Why couldn’t he leave Jude alone? So far, operation ‘Keep Zero at a Distance So I Can Date Someone Else’ wasn’t going well. Then Jude remembered Danny from the shoot. He was cute, in a guy-next-door kind of way. He wasn’t no Z — 

Jude told himself to stop. He found the assistant’s business card and turned it over, thinking.

“Oh, what the hell,” he muttered and dialed Danny’s number. 

...

Jude stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was anxious and sweating through his dress shirt already. Danny had agreed to meet him at Ahsha’s party. Jude didn’t know what to expect, but he tucked a condom and a sample-sized packet of lube in his pocket just in case. 

There was a knock on his door. Jude took a deep breath and let it out slowly to steady his nerves. He fingered the stuff in his pocket and checked his breath before going to answer the door. Zero waltzed in without a how-do-you-do and slumped on the couch. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Jude asked, flabbergasted. “We have a Devil’s party to get to. Everyone’s gonna be there.” Zero shrugged and reached for a magazine. 

“I’m not really in a party mood,” he said, flipping through a copy of Sport’s Illustrated. Jude huffed in disbelief.

“Look,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “This isn’t really about chips and dip. This is the first step in rebuilding. Before the public can rally behind you, you have to get back in good with the players.” He paused to let the words sink in, but Zero continued to ignore him. “You have no friends in the locker room. You need them!” The baller nodded but didn’t budge. Frustrated, Jude snatched the magazine out of his hands and tossed it aside. “I’m still your agent. You need to listen to me if we’re going to fix this.” That got Zero’s attention. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“You seem antsier than usual.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Jude. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have your own reasons to get to this party.” Caught off guard, Jude was ready to deny it. Then he thought better of it. 

“I maybe told somebody I’d be there,” he confessed. Zero frowned and narrowed his eyes again. 

“Who?” 

“Danny,” Jude exhaled. “The photographer’s assistant from the shoot.” Zero smiled and looked away, scratching the nape of his neck. Jude recognized it as a tell that the baller was uneasy about something. 

“I don’t want to go to some party where people are going to be hissing me,” Zero said with a hint of Matthew Mcconaughey in his voice. “Especially if Ahsha is going to be there. She’s the one who brought this whole thing on me to begin with.” Jude recognized that Zero was being disingenuous, but he couldn’t understand why. 

“That’s an even bigger reason for you to go,” Jude pointed out, gesturing like a true Italian. “For PR’s sake, you have to forgive her too, and going to this party will only help you.” For a second, Zero looked like he was thinking it over. Then he picked up the magazine again. 

“Forget it,” he said with the determination of a toddler. Jude threw up his hands in frustration and walked away. 

...

They bickered for another 20 minutes. Jude was about to give up and leave the apartment when Zero suddenly agreed to go. He wandered over to Jude’s bedroom and pulled several shirts out of the closet. Jude was beyond irritated. He leaned against the doorframe and watched the baller scrutinize his wardrobe with agonizing slowness. His phone chimed, and he looked down to see a text from Danny.

D: “Hey, I’m here. Where are you?” 

J: “Sorry, got held up with a client. On my way.” He finished typing and looked up to check Zero’s progress. The baller took that opportunity to take off his shirt. Jude inhaled sharply and turned away. 

“Hurry up!” He yelled over his shoulder. 

...

“Do you have _anything_ else?” Zero called out of the bedroom. Jude sighed and went back inside. 

“You look pretty. Let’s go,” he said without really looking at the baller. “While there’s still a party to go to.” Zero pulled off the blue shirt he was wearing and tossed it aside. He picked up a gray shirt instead. Jude glanced down at his phone. 

D: “I don’t know anyone here. It’s kind of awkward, haha. What’s your ETA?” Jude hated being late. He felt terrible. His lips tightened to a thin line and looked at the man responsible. 

“I’m sure Danny, the _photographer’s assistant_ will be fine,” Zero said, his voice heavy with condescension. 

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” Jude challenged because so far nothing else had been effective. 

“Really, Jude?” The baller scoffed with raised brows. “What’s next, you’re gonna double dog dare me to go?” He pulled the gray shirt over his head with unnecessary showmanship. Jude took a step closer. It was time to reestablish some boundaries. No more dirty texts. No more strip shows. No more stalling. Not without an explanation. 

“Do _you_ not want to go to the party, or do you not want _me_ to go to the party?” Zero seemed to be momentarily at a loss for words, so he just looked around and shrugged. Then he said,

“No one’s stopping you.” Jude took a few more steps forward, ready to play hard ball. He stopped short of their chests touching and squared his shoulders. 

“If I did kiss you on purpose in that car — and I’m not saying I did,” he hurried to add when Zero’s mouth looked smug. “It’s not because I was crazy. It’s not because I was going off of nothing.” Standing so close to Zero, Jude couldn’t help but look him up and down. He swallowed hard. They stood unmoving for what seemed like an eternity, the space thick with tension. Finally, the baller raised his brows in a “so what?” gesture. 

“Fine,” Jude sighed in defeat. “You know what? Have it your way. Danny’s waiting.” If he left now, maybe he could still salvage their date. He tried to move past Zero, but the baller stopped him with a hand to his chest. 

“You don’t even know the guy,” he said softly. They were so close that Jude could smell the mint on Zero’s breath. His heart began to race. 

“I’m about to,” he said as a matter of fact and tried to pass Zero again. The next thing he knew, Zero had grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him into a hard kiss. Shocked, Jude’s hands hovered above the baller’s shoulders, unsure of what to do. He pulled back and searched Zero’s eyes for an explanation. He didn’t get one. Instead, Zero stared at Jude’s mouth hungrily. 

Jude let out an involuntary moan and lunged to kiss Zero again. His hands cupping the baller’s face like he was afraid Zero was going to pull away. He didn’t have to worry. Zero returned the kiss with equal fervor. He walked Jude to the nearest wall and pinned him against the fireplace mantle. Eager hands tore open his button-down shirt and traced the muscles underneath. 

Jude’s mind went blank with pleasure. The only clear thought left in his head was to get Zero naked, and fast. He pulled at the baller’s shirt, and Zero assisted readily, unwilling to break their kiss for longer than necessary. His tongue explored Jude’s mouth. It was rough and gentle, and oh, so sweet. When Zero reached to unbuckled his belt, Jude couldn’t help but moan again. 

Zero responded by deepening the kiss and capturing Jude’s cry. Then his lips travelled down Jude’s jaw, his neck, his chest...his tongue toyed with one nipple, then the next. Laving each one until Jude squirmed with impatience. Zero smiled, smug at a job well done, and reached to palm Jude through his boxers. He grinned when Jude gasped at the sensation. 

Neither of them said a word, afraid to break the spell. Jude thrust into Zero’s hand involuntarily, and the baller enjoyed watching him for a few moments before leaning in for another kiss. Finally, he licked a path down Jude’s sternum, navel, and abdominal V. He sank to his knees, looked at Jude momentarily for silent permission, and then pulled Jude’s pants and boxers down to his ankles. 

Zero hummed appreciatively at the sight. Jude laughed, embarrassed and incredibly turned on. He was fully erect in anticipation. Zero teased him by leaning in and kissing everywhere _but_ where Jude needed him most. Jude gripped the baller’s hair and suppressed a groan of frustration. Zero’s eyes widened in surprise, then darkened. He gripped Jude’s cock firmly at the base and circled the tip with his tongue. 

Jude forgot to breathe. He stared in wonder as the baller expertly stroked and sucked at the same time. He was lost to the sensation. Fuck, it was so much better than he had imagined. It didn’t take long for him to climax. He tried to warn Zero, but the baller didn’t listen. He milked Jude and swallowed his cum until Jude’s erection had fully softened. 

Jude gripped the wall behind him for support. He looked at Zero still on his knees, and his vision blurred for a moment. Jude looked away and blinked rapidly. Zero rose and wrapped his arms around Jude, kissing his shoulder. They stood like that for a few minutes until Jude realized Zero’s erection was still alive and well. 

He pushed Zero gently away and leaned down to retrieve the contents of his pant pocket. He dropped the condom and lube into Zero’s outstretched palm. The baller looked at Jude for affirmation, and Jude simply nodded. Zero’s fingers closed over the items. He reached for Jude’s hand with his other and walked them towards the bed. 

Jude sat at the edge of the mattress and watched Zero undress. He savored the sight. Zero noticed him starring and, grinning wolfishly, sauntered forward to kiss Jude. His tongue probed Jude’s mouth, alternating between hungry and lingering. They kissed for a while, seemingly without hurry. Finally, Zero pulled back to draw breath, and Jude took the opportunity to lean back into the mattress. He spread his legs, not caring if it seemed overeager. 

Zero remained standing and studied Jude from head to toe. He noticed the bandage on Jude’s right foot, reached for it, and pressed his lips to the wounded heel. Jude wondering why of all the things they’ve done so far, this seemed to be the most intimate yet. Zero continued to kiss up Jude’s calf and inner thigh until Jude whimpered for the baller to stop teasing. 

Zero pulled away reluctantly. He tore the packet of lube with his teeth and coated his index finger generously with the slippery stuff. He opened Jude slowly, kissing him all the while, and coached him to relax under the pressure of one, two, and finally three fingers. When Jude was ready, Zero rolled the condom over his own erection, applied more lube, and pressed the head of his cock to Jude’s hole. Slowly, with a mix of pleasure and pain, Zero entered Jude to the hilt. 

Neither one moved as they waited to adjust. Jude, to a feeling of unfamiliar fullness. Zero, to a feeling of overwhelming tightness. After a few moments, Jude squeezed the baller’s thighs to indicate that he was ready and encouraged him to move. Zero reached down to hoist Jude’s ass and legs for a better angle, and Jude stifled a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. He lost all traces of humor, however, when Zero started to draw in and out slowly. His breathing hitched when Zero’s cock hit his prostate just right. 

Zero picked up speed and set a steady rhythm. Slamming into Jude, each thrust elicited an involuntary sound of pleasure. Jude felt his cock stiffen with arousal for a second time. He reached down and pumped his own erection to match Zero’s thrusts. It didn’t go unnoticed, and something guttural escaped the baller’s throat. Jude thought it sounded like a growl that had turned into a moan. It made him smile affectionately at Zero before closing his eyes and losing himself to all the stimulation. 

Minutes later, Zero’s hips stiffened. He groaned, and Jude felt the cock inside him pulse with climax. He continued to pump his own, once, twice, and then joined Zero in orgasm. Their eyes met. Their chests heaved from exertion. Their ragged breathing was the only sound in the room. Finally, Zero reached down and pinched the head of the condom before pulling out. He tied it off and threw it in the direction of the trashcan. 

For a moment, Jude thought the baller was going to walk away. Instead, he rested a knee on the bed and leaned in to lick the cum off of Jude’s stomach. Jude’s cheeks grew hot, and he pulled the baller up for a kiss, tasting himself on Zero’s tongue. 

After cleaning up, the two had just enough energy to climb back into bed and fall asleep. Lying side by side, naked and satiated, Jude’s vision threatened to go blurry again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy.

...

Jude’s phone chimed with a text. 

D: “Hey, did something happen?”

D: “It’s been over an hour. Either you’ve been in a car accident, or I’m being stood up. Which one is it?”

D: “You’re a dick. Don’t call me again.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude realizes that Zero doesn’t do relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, now that the boys have gotten together, the story will continue to have explicit moments. Please let me know what you think so far and if you agree with my interpretation of the show. Feedback is welcome!

Jude woke up at 7:00 am like clockwork. He watched as morning light filled the room and listened as sounds of traffic intensified outside the bedroom window. He heard other familiar sounds like the ceiling creaks that indicated Mrs. Baker was getting ready for work in the apartment above. If Jude concentrated, he could hear the clicking sounds of nails against the wooden floor as her dog scurried from room to room. 

One sound was unfamiliar however, and Jude turned to see Zero lying next to him, still asleep, his breathing deep and even. A wave of affection washed over Jude as he studied the man’s features. He could see a hint of his true hair color, sandy blond, growing out at the roots. The longer ends fell across his forehead, making him appear younger and more carefree than usual. 

His lips were uncommonly full for a man. They parted slightly in his sleep, and Jude blushed at the memory of those lips from the night before. He remembered the feel of Zero’s stubble when they kissed and noted that it was overdue for a trim. Jude frowned as he spotted a scar across the baller’s jaw. It was several inches long but well hidden under his facial hair. He wondered what could have caused it. A playground injury as a kid? A fistfight in college? There was so much he didn’t know about Zero. 

His eyes continued to travel down, appreciating the baller’s toned physique. They stopped again. Another set of scars peppered Zero’s right forearm. How had he never noticed them before? They looked round and irregular, almost like cigarette burns. Jude couldn’t say why, but he felt compelled to run his fingers along the marred skin. He was mid-reach when Zero’s hand suddenly caught his. 

“What are they?” Jude asked. If it wasn’t for the firm grip around Jude’s wrist, he would have thought the baller was still sleeping. 

“It’s nothing,” said Zero and released his hold. Groaning, he squinted one eye open to look at Jude. “It’s too early for interrogations.” Jude bit his lower lip and couldn’t help but smile. 

“Good morning,” he said shyly. 

“Mornin’,” Zero said and rolled onto his back, stretching. 

“Sleep well?” 

“Like a log. Someone wore me out,” he teased. Jude’s smile widened. 

“Last night...” he began, not sure how much he wanted to admit. “I had no idea that would happen. What does it — I mean, are we...” Jude struggled for the right words. Zero groaned again, lifted the blanked they shared, and climbed on top of Jude. 

“You are _way_ too chatty for 7 o’clock in the morning,” he mumbled against Jude’s skin. With little warning, Zero took Jude’s cock into his mouth and set to work. Jude gasped in surprise. It didn’t take long for his arousal to build, and he moaned with unadulterated pleasure. Zero teased Jude with his tongue, stimulating the bundle of nerves beneath the head and the sensitive skin underneath his scrotum. He sucked the shaft, relaxing his throat and taking Jude deeper than he had thought possible. Euphoric, Jude thought Zero’s mouth deserved worship. It was god-like in its abilities. 

Jude saw stars as he came. He felt Zero swallow, pull back, and slump onto his pillow with a satisfied sigh. Out of breath, Jude watched as the baller sat upright and began to get dressed. He had the overwhelming urge to pull Zero back into bed. To hold him, kiss him, tell him how much he meant to Jude. 

“So that’s it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. Zero smirked. 

“You seemed pretty satisfied a minute ago,” the baller answered. His cocky, nonchalant manner reminded Jude of the old Zero. It was like the intimacy they had shared last night never happened. Jude watched as the baller stood to retrieve his pants off of the bedroom floor and pulled them on. Frustrated, Jude sat upright as well, needing answers. 

“What are we doing?” He asked. Zero shrugged. 

“Having a good time.”

“You’ve done this?” Jude wondered, gesturing to his crotch pointedly. “‘Have a good time’ with a guy before?” Zero’s eyes crinkled, seeming to laugh at Jude’s inexperience, and looked away. 

“I’ve been with men,” he said casually. “...and women. And men and women.” He picked up his shirt and pulled it on. “It’s not deep, Jude because I don’t make it deep. I don’t _do_ relationships.” Jude snorted. 

“That’s funny because it seemed like the minute you met Jelena, you were trying to lock her down.” 

“That was part of the Plan,” Zero said, pointing for emphasis. Jude could tell he had struck a nerve, but he was feeling hurt by the baller’s cavalier attitude. 

“Falling for her wasn’t,” he reminded Zero. “Makes me wonder if you’re only here with me because you can’t be with her.” He flinched inwardly, knowing that he sounded jealous and pathetic. Zero’s expression clouded. All traces of their newfound closeness was gone, and the baller’s arrogant mask was back on. 

“And that’s why I don’t do relationships,” he said dismissively. “I can’t deal with conversations like this. The only thing that matters right now is busting open the rift between Derek and Terence. We can keep having fun, or not. Up to you.” His voice made it clear that he didn’t care one way or another. 

Jude watched him leave the room. He heard the apartment door open and firmly close. With a shaky sigh, he leaned against the bed frame and stared at the baller’s jersey above his fireplace, feeling a painful ache in his chest. 

...

Jude went to the office like today was just another day. Like his world hadn’t shifted overnight. He went through the motions of checking his email, reading through contracts, and attending a morning meeting. 

At noon, he got a text from Lionel asking to meet her for lunch. He accepted the invitation, glad for the distraction, and drove to her house in Beverly Hills. She was the owner of a beautiful terra-cotta mansion in a gated community. Her neighbors included the likes of Elton John and Jennifer Lawrence. Lionel greeted him at the front door with a kiss on either cheek and led them to the atrium where she served sushi for lunch. 

Jude relaxed into an upholstered sofa and picked up the chopsticks next to his plate. 

“So what’s the occasion?” He asked, popping a spicy tuna roll into his mouth. 

“I need a plus one for my premier next month,” she said, carrying a bowl of steamed edamame beans and setting them down in front of Jude. “You free?”

“What’s up with you and Pete?” He asked, knowing that divorce didn’t always mean the relationship was done. “Is it really over? He’s already decked me once. I’m not looking to start more drama.” Lionel settled in a wicker chair opposite him. 

“It’s not a problem. Drama free,” she promised. “Unless you’re seeing someone,” she added as an afterthought. Jude frowned, wondering if what he and Zero had constituted as ‘seeing someone’. According to the baller, the two were just having fun. On second thought, Jude wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, and even if he couldn’t mention any names, he thought it would feel validating to tell Lionel. 

“Actually I _am_ seeing someone,” he said rebelliously. “But they won’t care. They don’t seem to be the _possessive type_.” Lionel leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. A mischievous, know-it-all expression on her face.

“You said ‘they’ twice. You’re playing the pronoun game,” she said smiling. “My brother played the pronoun game. Ended up marrying a gay biker in Providence.” She kicked him playfully. “You’re loving on a guy!” Jude thought she seemed awfully smug, but her smile was too contagious to not return. 

“He’s not a biker in Providence,” he admitted. “But yeah, it’s a guy.” Lionel whooped with excitement. 

“You have to take me to the premier now,” she begged. “You’re tolerable. You’re handsome. You’re not going to try to get me into bed.” Jude thought that that had already been established, but he saw her point. “You’re the perfect date.” He squinted at her, wondering idly if Zero would be jealous, then nodded. 

“Fine,” he said in mock seriousness. “But just so we’re clear. I’m not putting out.” She laughed and agreed wholeheartedly. 

...

Jude was home for ten minutes before he heard a knock on his front door. Surprised, he went to answer and found Zero on the doorstep. He was carrying takeout in one hand and a duffel bag in the other. Jude let him in wordlessly. 

They stood in the entryway, waiting for the other to say something, but neither man volunteered to go first. Unable to stand the tension anymore, Jude took the takeout bag out of Zero’s hands and walked to the kitchen. Zero took off his leather jacket, hung it in the coat closet, and followed not far behind. 

Jude was at the sink, washing his hands and looking out the kitchen window, when he felt Zero approach. The baller reached over to shut the blinds, then pressed himself against Jude’s back. 

“Are you mad?” Zero asked, slowly running his palms across Jude’s chest and stomach. 

“No,” lied Jude, closing his eyes and leaning into the baller’s touch. 

“I thought about doing this all day,” he said, reaching down to palm Jude through his slacks. 

“What, have dinner?” Jude deflected lamely, but his strained voice gave him away. 

“Not exactly what I had in mind...” 

...

It was 7:02 am, and Jude lay on his side, studying the moles on Zero’s back. His fingers itched to connect them into constellations, but he didn’t dare. It became quickly apparent what kind of arrangement Zero wanted. It involved dinner without the date, sex without the intimacy, and a relationship without the commitment.

Jude thought he was hardly in a position to argue. Zero could have anyone he wanted. He was 100 times richer, more handsome, and more successful than Jude. If Zero wanted to be fuck buddies and nothing else, then who was Jude to ask for more? Still, moments from their first night together made Jude wonder if his feelings weren’t as one sided as Zero would have him believe. 

“Does your brain ever sleep?” Zero mumbled into his pillow. He rolled over to face Jude and raised his brows suggestively. “I can think of a way to turn it off...” 

“I can’t,” Jude said, moving out of reach. “I have to leave early.”

“For what? What could be more important than this?” Zero asked, indicating the tented sheets over his morning wood. Jude rolled his eyes and moved around the room, getting dressed. 

“I have to pick up my tux from the dry cleaner’s. I’m escorting Lionel to her movie premier tonight.” 

“You mean _Ecstasy_?” Zero asked in disdain. “Sounds like a cheap porno to me.” 

“It’s a dramady,” Jude corrected. “I think.” 

“I’ve seen the posters,” the baller said, following Jude’s every move with squinted eyes. “Good thing I have nothing to worry about, right?” On the surface, his tone was casual, but Jude thought he recognized a hint of something else. 

“Of course not,” He said quickly and cleared his throat to hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. “Lionel and I’ve been there, done that. It didn’t amount to much.” He felt a little guilty for bending the truth, but he thought it was worth it to see the shocked expression on Zero’s face.

“Are you serious?” The baller asked. Tossing the sheets aside, he stood glowering — butt naked and gorgeous — in front of Jude. “I thought you were gay or whatever.” Jude shrugged. 

“Or whatever.” He said in a noncommittal tone and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Zero called out and hurried to block the doorway. For a second, he looked uncertain, then he pulled Jude into a fierce kiss. Hard and hungry at first, the kiss gradually became tender and sweet. Jude was so relieved to see that he hadn’t imagined this side of Zero, that it was _there_ but buried under layers of machismo, ambition, and who knows what else, that he felt he could cry.

They broke apart. Zero looked reluctant to let Jude go. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked pointing to his member standing at attention. Jude shrugged and sidled past him. He went to the living room entertainment center, rummaged through a drawer, and tossed something small and silver to Zero. 

“It’s a spare,” he explained, ignoring the baller’s look of surprise. “Lock up when you’re done.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude finally tells Zero what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long hiatus. Life is very busy at the moment. Chapters that don't include scenes from the show are difficult to write for obvious reasons, but I felt like Jude and Zero needed to have a serious conversation before the denoument. Feedback is welcome! Thank you so much for reading and commenting! It really makes my day to hear from you guys!

Jude stood off to the side and waited for Lionel to finish her interview. He could tell by the press of her lips that she wanted to slap the reporter for mentioning Pete, her ex, and for implying that she needed her husband’s permission to star in a film involving nudity. He was about to inch closer and hurry the interview along, when his phone vibrated with an incoming call. 

“Jude Kinkaid,” he answered. 

“Jude, this is Stafford,” he heard the gruff voice of Stafford Bilchek, his private PI, on the other line. Jude stiffened to attention, knowing that the man wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. “There’s been a development in Olivia’s murder investigation. Chase Vincent is out.”

“What do you mean, ‘he’s out’?” Jude asked in a raised voice. Two weeks ago, Chase Vincent – Olivia’s husband, and Executive Vice President to the Devil’s Organization – was charged with manslaughter after he’d confessed to killing his wife in a marital dispute. It had effectively closed the case, and Jude was able to breathe easy again with the knowledge that Olivia’s blackmail had gone undiscovered. Now Stafford was pulling the rug from under him, and Jude’s mind raced with the implications. “When? How?” He demanded to know. 

“He was released from prison this morning. Acquitted of all charges. I don’t have all the details yet, but a source tells me it has something to do with new video evidence.“ Jude felt numb. It was hard to hear the PI’s words over the loud, rushing sound in his ears. “Anyway, I’ll call you when I know more.“

“Thanks,” Jude said absently. “Keep me posted.” He ended the call and stared at the phone in his hands. It was bad news. With their key suspect cleared, the police will have no choice but to re-open their investigation. It was only a matter of time before they come sniffing around Jude. Not only would they discover he’s been dealing coke to Derek -- NBA’s Roman Emperor – but that he’s been in a secret, gay relationship with Zero as well. It would be a scandal of epic proportion, ending in Derek being banned from playing, Jude imprisoned, and Zero…Zero would be outed and publicly humiliated. Jude couldn’t let that happen. He had to establish a solid alibi for the night of Olivia’s murder, and soon. 

He looked up to see Lionel coming towards him. Jude pocketed the phone, determined to focus on Lionel and help her get through the night. She looked haggard already. He smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring and led them into the theater with Lionel dragging her feet like she was walking the plank instead of the red carpet all the way to their seats. 

…

Lionel grasped Jude’s offered arm for support and climbed out of the limo. She thanked the driver, handing him an empty Champagne flute and almost dropping it in the process. Teetering in her stilettos, she managed to walk to the front door without incidence. Jude rang the doorbell and waited. When no one answered, Lionel groaned. 

“I forgot….” she said, fishing in her clutch for the key. “I gave Maria the night off.” Finding it, she made an uncoordinated attempt to turn the lock before Jude took over. He opened the door and gestured for Lionel to go inside. She did, walking to the middle of the large, empty foyer and looking around gloomily. With a sigh, she dropped her clutch to the floor then veered towards the parlor room on their right. “Vodka?” She asked, maneuvering around the furniture on her way to the built-in bar. 

“Just water for me,” said Jude, watching her with a look of concern. 

“Vodka means ‘water’ in Russian,” Lionel said matter of fact, pouring two shots. “It’s what my dedushka used to say.”

“Good to know.”

“To epic failures,” she said, handing him a glass. He took it reluctantly and shot it back, wincing. 

“Lionel,” he tried to catch her hand to stop her from going back to the bar, but she evaded him. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” She laughed without humor and poured two more shots. 

“I don’t know what was worse,” she said turning back to Jude. “The fact that none of the jokes landed? The fact that the plot was ridiculous and nonsensical? Or the fact that I was naked in every other scene?” She downed one of the drinks and offered him the other. When he shook his head, she shrugged and downed that one too. 

“It’s got niche potential,” encouraged Jude.

“Oh sweetie,” she said, her speech beginning to slur. “The name…Lionel Davenport _was_ synonymous with success. Now the studio will think Lionel Davenport…the actress who starred in the most expensive flop of the year.” She pivoted on her heels, heading for the bottle again, and stumbled over the edge of a Moroccan rug in the room. 

“Lionel, please sit down,” Jude insisted, going to her aid. She argued half-heartedly, but finally sat down on one of the love seats. “Yes,” admitted Jude, sitting next to her and taking her hands in his. “This is a set-back, but you have a dozen good movies under your belt. With time and a few carefully selected roles, you can make a full recovery.”

“Time?” Lionel asked, her voice breaking a little. “I have this house, my staff, my divorce lawyer to pay for. My lifestyle is expensive, Jude.”

“Ok,” he said in a placating tone. “I get that, but I’m sure you have savings. A rainy day account?” Lionel looked away. 

“This movie is not the only bad investment I’ve made lately,” she said bitterly. Jude sighed and sat back, finally realizing the full extent of her predicament. Looking at her beautiful face, framed by loose curls on either side, and seeing the expression of hopelessness and anxiety she’d tried so desperately to hide with a brave front, he knew he had to help somehow. 

“Ok,” he said again. “It’s getting late, and there’s nothing we can do about it now. Why don’t we both get some rest, and then you and I can meet later in the week to strategize?” She looked at him gratefully; her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and nodded in agreement. 

Jude helped Lionel upstairs. Once in the master suite, she gestured for him to unzip her gown, and then proceeded to undress without a care for modesty. Jude averted his gaze as she changed into a silk chemise, tossing her dress, shoes, and even diamond jewelry carelessly on the floor. Shaking his head, he retrieved the 15-carat necklace and earrings and placed them judiciously on the bedside table. 

“This house…” she said, getting into bed and under the covers. “Six bed, six bath, and the only one living here is me. Can you think of anything more pathetic?” Jude huffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Lionel, I rent a one bedroom apartment and live alone. You have a beautiful mansion and a full-time staff, how bad could it be?” 

“Oh…” She yawned and turned to her side. “I guess you’re right. You’re always right. It’s nice to have you as my voice of reason, Jude Kinkaid” she said, patting the empty space next to her. Jude complied and sat down on top of the covers. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Nodding, Jude adjusted the pillow behind him and settled in for the long haul. 

“Of course,” he said simply, and she closed her eyes with a sigh of relief. 

…

Jude drove home in a conflicted mood. A part of him echoed Lionel’s loneliness and dreaded coming home to an empty apartment. Another part of him worried about Olivia’s murder investigation and having to track down Derek to make sure their alibi was solid. And still another part of him was just bone weary. From everything. 

He parked his Porsche on autopilot and went to unlock his apartment door. Lost in thought, he past the living room window without registering that the TV was on, its blue and red lights flickering behind the drawn curtains. It was midnight, and his stomach growled with hunger — since Lionel had insisted on leaving as soon as the movie was done, and they didn’t go to the after-party as planned – but the idea of cooking was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted nothing more than to get out of his tux and sink into bed. 

Walking inside, he was surprised to see a dim light coming from the kitchen and heard the sounds of the TV playing quietly in the background. He looked around. 

“Finally,” he turned to see Zero sitting up on the couch and stretching. “Took you long enough.”

“What are you doing here?” Jude asked, genuinely perplexed. Zero looked comfortable, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. An open copy of Sports Illustrated and a glass of milk sat on the coffee table in front of him. The baller shrugged. 

“You gave me a key, remember?”

“I remember,” said Jude, secretly pleased to see him but also annoyed that he was being irresponsible. With hands on hips, Jude launched into agent mode. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here on the night of the conference final. Or why you’re staying up so late before the big game. Are you really willing to risk the championship just to get laid?” Zero scoffed. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said a little defensively. “Traffic’s better from your place.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on knees, and steepled his fingers. “Besides, I couldn’t sleep. I figured I’d wait up and see how your thing went. Well?” He asked pointedly. Jude sighed and looked down. 

“It was a disaster,” he admitted, toeing off his shoes and putting them away. “As a major blockbuster anyway. It might work on the Indie market, but it’s going to lose money. A lot of it.” He ran a hand across his face, exhausted. “Lionel isn’t taking it very well.” 

“One flop won’t kill her, will it?”

“Hard to say,” answered Jude as he took off his tuxedo jacket and laid it on the back of an armchair. “The studio is going to look for a scapegoat. She might be blacklisted for a while.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah,” said Jude, looking at Zero and feeling himself relax in the baller’s presence. He was used to coming home to an empty apartment. It was nice to have someone to talk to for a change. 

“There’s stir fry in the fridge if you’re hungry,” Zero offered, changing the subject. 

“Really?” Jude asked in surprise. “You know, most players hire a professional chef or something.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Where did you learn to cook?” Jude asked, making his way to the kitchen and opening the fridge. Inside, he found a plastic container carefully dated and labeled. His stomach tightened at seeing his name in the baller’s handwriting. Zero followed and settled against the opposite counter. 

“I worked fast food in high school,” he said casually. “Then as a cook in college during the off season.” 

“I didn’t know that.” Jude rummaged for a fork in the utensil drawer, deciding to eat the food cold and straight out of the container. 

“I wasn’t always rich, Jude.” They fell into comfortable silence as Jude ate Zero’s cooking with enthusiasm. 

“This is really good,” said Jude between bites, shoveling chicken, mixed vegetables, and brown rice into his mouth with gusto. It tasted of garlic, ginger, soy sauce, and a number of other things he couldn’t identify but definitely appreciated. 

“Well, when all you eat is pizza and sandwiches, anything would taste good,” Zero said with a satisfied smirk. 

“I'm not much of a cook," Jude confessed. "My mom did all the cooking growing up. It was mostly pre-made stuff like lasagna or TV dinners.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad.”

“She did her best,” Jude said with a shrug. “She’s a nurse, so we tried to eat healthy, but between her third shift at the hospital and church stuff, there was never enough time to cook from scratch.” 

“So it’s true,” Zero wondered out loud. 

“What is?”

“See, I wondered why your parents named you Jude,” admitted Zero. “I figured they were either Beatlemaniacs or Catholic.” 

“Just my mom,” said Jude with a huff. “Catholic, I mean. She was six months pregnant with me when Oscar bought the Devils. She thought a baby might keep them together even though their marriage was falling apart.” 

“St. Jude. Patron Saint of Lost Causes.”

“It worked for awhile,” continued Jude, chewing thoughtfully. “They didn’t divorce until I was five.” He could still remember saying goodbye to his father as he left for a business trip, childishly unaware that Oscar had no intention of coming back. Then he registered Zero’s words. “Wait, how do you know about St. Jude?”

“Oh,” said the baller with a tired sigh. “I did my fair share of praying to him too.” 

“You mean it wasn’t all B.S.?” Jude asked, half joking. 

“It is now,” Zero said with a shrug. Surprised, Jude studied the baller. He didn’t volunteer anything else. However, for a moment, Jude thought he heard the distinct note of honestly in Zero’s words. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the façade, and Jude felt compelled to know more. 

“What were your parents like?” He asked, hoping Zero would divulge another piece of the puzzle. Zero just smirked and straightened from leaning against the counter. 

“As much as I’d love to share our feelings and relive the past,” he said, coming towards Jude with a predatorial gleam in his eyes. “I’d love to tear you out of that tux even more. Did I mention how hot you look right now?”

“Zero…” Jude protested weakly as the baller leaned in and whispered dirty promises, making his ears burn. “Fine,” Jude said, giving in. “But you can’t keep throwing sex at me whenever things start to get personal. I feel like I hardly know anything about your life before the Devil’s!”

“Oh, you’re about to get to know me on a _very_ intimate level,” Zero assured him. Abandoning his dinner, Jude followed Zero into the bedroom. He stood in the middle of the room, watching as Zero closed the blinds and got their supplies within easy reach. 

“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Jude asked, smiling despite himself. 

“Oh,” said Zero, pulling the comforter off of the bed with a flourish and striding towards Jude. “A little of this. A little of that,” he said, unbuttoning Jude’s tuxedo vest. “What are you hungry for?”

“Hmm…” said Jude pretending to think it over. He knew exactly what he wanted. “I think I’m in the mood for something…. sweet.” Leaning in, Jude’s lips brushed against Zero’s, languid and feather-light. The baller rushed to deepen the kiss, but Jude pulled away and met Zero’s look of frustration with defiance. The two had a silent battle of will, and Jude was pretty confident he’d won when the baller rolled his eyes and all but said his characteristic, ‘really, Jude?’.

Jude smiled at the small victory and leaned in to kiss Zero again, savoring the feel of lips on lips without anything more. His fingers traveled along the baller’s abs, shoulders and finally settled on either side of his face in a caress. After a few moments, Jude ran the tip of his tongue across Zero’s bottom lip and gently deepened the kiss, exploring the man’s mouth with deliberate leisure. Zero tolerated the attention for a minute or two, and then it was his turn to pull away. 

“Jude,” he protested, his voice a mix of emotions: impatience, lust, and something else. Jude thought it sounded vulnerable whatever it was, and an overwhelming sense of needing to protect Zero took over. 

“Ok,” said Jude, not wanting to make Zero feel any more uncomfortable than he was already. “You can set the pace.” He lowered his hands and started to get undressed with stoic efficiency. Zero didn’t move, looking uncertain. Jude glanced up and sighed. “Look, I get it,” he said in a detached tone. He tried to stay objective, but feelings of disappointment and anger threatened to surface. “You made yourself clear, and I have to respect that.”

“Jude, I –“

“You don’t have to explain. We’re just fuck buddies, right? Two guys having fun.” Jude pulled off the last few items of clothing he still had on and tossed them unceremoniously aside. He climbed on top of the bed and got on all fours, his face away from Zero. “Ready when you are, pal.”

“Jude,” said Zero sounding exasperated. “You’re being unreasonable.” 

“Am I?” He asked, looking over his shoulder. Maybe he was. Things had escalated quickly, and Jude’s mood was all over the place. Then he remembered the sting of rejection, and his anger flared up again. He turned forward, looking at the headboard resolutely. “Just shut up and fuck me already.” 

He felt the mattress dip as Zero sat down, letting the silence stretch for an uncomfortable amount of time. Jude was starting to feel like an idiot with his ass in the air. 

“Do you want me to leave?” The baller asked finally. Jude’s shouldered sagged. 

“No.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You know what I want,” said Jude, stubbornly not looking at him. 

“I have an idea,” Zero admitted. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.” He waited, but there was no response. “For god’s sake, Jude. Can you please sit down and look at me?” Jude sighed and sat down, turning to face the baller sheepishly. He never thought Zero would be handling this more maturely than him. 

“I want to be with you,” Jude said plainly. 

“You _are_ with me. I’m here, aren’t I?” Zero said, frustrated. “If you were anyone else, I’d be out that door the moment things got awkward.” Jude huffed. 

“Thanks, I guess.” He looked down at his hands. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding…” he wanted to say ‘weak’ but he settled on the word “stupid” instead. Zero’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. Jude took it to mean that the damage was already done. “I want…” he searched for the right words again. When he found them, he met the baller’s gaze with determination. “I want to kiss you hello when I walk through the door,” he blurted out in a rush. Zero looked surprised, then glanced off to the side, seemingly considering the request. 

“Fine,” he conceded. Jude bit his lower lip, telling himself it was too early to celebrate. He reached for the other man’s hand, feeling the strong calloused palm in his. 

“I want to hold your hand when we’re watching TV.” Zero’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, but he didn’t pull away. 

“Okay…” he said, sounding more skeptical. 

“I want to…” Jude looked skyward. “Cuddle. After, you know…” He laughed, embarrassed but unapologetic. 

“Seriously?” The baller asked with a groan. Jude steeled himself for the next request. 

“Yes,” he said in earnest. “And I want to go on a date. Like a normal dinner-and-a-movie kind of date.” 

“Let me guess,” Zero said flippantly. “You also want flowers for Valentine’s Day. While we’re at it, should I get you lace panties? Maybe a matching bra?” Jude rolled his eyes. For once, he was confident enough to think fuck the masculine gender role. He wasn’t asking to be Zero’s little wifey; he was asking for intimacy, for basic human connection. 

“Most of all,” said Jude, ignoring the comment and looking at the baller meaningfully. “I want you to want all those things too.” He held Zero’s gaze for what seemed like forever. The silence made Jude feel uncomfortable. He was beginning to regret saying anything at all. Why did he have to start a fight? Why couldn’t he just be content with the way things were? Finally, the baller looked down at their hands. 

“Jude, I – “ Zero started, his voice serious. 

“No, it’s ok,” Jude interrupted, shaking his head. He knew he was asking for too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle another rejection. Not after a day like today. “Forget it. I’m stupid for even asking. You’ve made yourself crystal clear, and I’m just stirring the pot. I –“

“Listen,” the baller insisted. “Hear me out.” He squeezed Jude’s hand in reassurance. “I like spending time with you. You’re not _stupid_. You’re a good person and a great agent – although I’m still waiting on a couple of those endorsement deals – “ he said, attempting to lighten the mood. Jude smiled weakly. “But I can’t give you what you want. Ok?” Zero searched Jude’s face for understanding. “All I can do is make you food and screw your brains out. If that’s not enough for you, I get it.” He waited for Jude to respond. When he didn’t say anything, Zero nodded solemnly and stood up to leave. “I’ll see myself out.” He was halfway across the room when Jude spoke. 

“Ok,” he said quietly. Zero stopped mid-step and turned around. 

“Ok?” He asked with raised brows. 

“It’s enough for now,” Jude said looking after the baller. Zero’s tentative smile broke into a grin. He walked over to Jude. 

“Do you know how hard it is to have a serious conversation when you’re naked and bent over?” He laughed with relief and leaned in to kiss Jude. Jude returned the kiss, deep and hungry like he knew Zero wanted. The baller encouraged him to lean back and climbed on top. 

“Are we still going to have sex?” Jude asked, a little surprised. “It’s late, and you have an important game in a few hours.” Zero hummed in agreement and trailed kisses down Jude’s chest with enthusiasm. 

“Yeah,” he said, biting Jude’s inner thigh playfully. “But I hear it’s bad luck to go to bed angry.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude is desperate for Zero to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and encouragements! Things are starting to wind down to the end of season 2. Fair warning, this chapter gets explicit towards the end! I know I like reading explicit scenes, but I’m still very new to writing them. I feel like Zero and Jude leave a lot of things unsaid, and they express themselves via sex more than words. So hopefully it doesn’t read as smut for smut’s sake, but gives you further insight into the character’s head space. Feedback is welcome!

Jude woke up to the feeling of something heavy across his chest. Squinting against the morning light, he looked down to find Zero’s arm wrapped around him, the baller pressed to Jude’s side, still asleep. He couldn’t help but smile, aware that the gesture was probably unintentional, but it felt nice nonetheless. 

Jude closed his eyes, wanting to enjoy the moment, but flashes of the night before tugged on his conscious. He felt guilty for starting a fight, for being irrational, for driving Zero further and further away with his insecurities. For some god-only-knows reason, Jude continued to sabotage what little he had with Zero. What did he expect? That he was special? That he was the exception to Zero’s endless list of conquests? What they had was hot, and passionate, and addicting. Most people - men and women alike - would kill to sleep with one of the sexiest players in the NBA. Jude should consider himself lucky, really. 

He turned to study the man in question, his face so close and yet so off limits. Jude wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through the ballers hair, to caress his cheek, to press a kiss to those pillowed lips...but all of those things would put the man on the defensive. It didn’t take long for Jude to learn which topics were off limits, namely Zero’s childhood, his family, his likes, dislikes, fears, or anything remotely vulnerable. The baller’s boundaries were firm and uncompromising, including the limits of their relationship. 

Jude swallowed hard, watching Zero stir in his sleep, feeling the ever-present ache in his chest intensify. He knew Zero was exhausted. The regular season was hard enough — with an average of 3+ games a week, half of them out of state — but now, with the playoffs and a chance at the final, Zero was worn ragged. He never showed it, just like he never showed any weakness, but Jude saw glimpses — a limp here, a heavy sigh there — and he knew that the crazy schedule was taking its toll. 

In many ways he admired Zero. His discipline, drive, and hard work were second to none. Zero lived clean — the occasional prostitute aside. He was the first player to arrive in the Arena, the last player to leave the training room, and the only one to have a near encyclopedic knowledge of winning plays. _Unlike Derek_, thought Jude bitterly, who partied to at all hours of the night, drank in excess, and snorted coke to play through the morning after hangover.

Jude closed his eyes, memories of Derek coming to his mind, unbidden. Two years ago, he’d just moved to L.A., with nothing but a dream, the last name Kinkaid, and an unpaid internship to his credit. He’d angled to work with Lucus, an agent who represented Derek Roman, because any connection to the Devil’s meant a connection to Oscar. He was ecstatic to meet the baller in real life. The fateful words, “If you need anything, Mr. Roman, anything at all, I’m your man,” echoed in Jude’s brain to this day. He’d been fresh out of college and completely naive. 

So when he got a text from the Roman Emperor himself, asking Jude to come to his private mansion ASAP at 4 o’clock in the morning, Jude didn’t hesitate. He rushed to the baller’s aid, only to find out that Derek had been partying with three girls, hard. One of the girls, unbeknownst to Derek at the time, was only 17. She’d passed out after a night of heavy drinking and snorting coke. Jude could still remember lifting the half-naked girl off of the floor and feeling for a pulse. He remembered the panic-stricken look on Derek’s face, not for the girl’s safety, but for the bad press and police inquiry that would happen if the girl should die. 

Afterwards, Derek was grateful for Jude’s help. He appreciated the discrete ambulance, clean up, and non-disclosure agreements Jude had managed to organize within the hour. Derek promised to make Jude a junior agent if he’d agree to become the baller’s go-to man. Jude was unsure, still stricken with the night’s events, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get that much closer to his father. Of course, at the time, he didn’t know being Derek’s go-to man would involve buying cocaine for the baller on the regular. 

Jude shook his head, trying to clear the unpleasant memories and intrusive thoughts from his mind. He glanced at Zero again, taking solace in the man’s steady presence, and sighed. If anyone deserved MVP, it was Zero, and not that strung out, arrogant prick. Jude resolved to do everything in his power to see Zero succeed. No more fights. No more needy, unproductive conversations. No more distractions. 

Jude carefully extricated himself from under the man’s arm and got out of bed. Unable to help it, he leaned in and brushed the long strands of the baller’s hair away from his forehead. Zero shifted in his sleep, and Jude quickly withdrew his hand, watching as the baller rolled onto Jude’s vacated side of the mattress with a sigh. Holding his breath, Jude observed Zero’s chest rise and fall, still deep in slumber. He looked peaceful again. With a final glance, Jude left to shower, get dressed, and get on with his day. 

...

Jude was in the kitchen. He was in the middle of assembling a couple of yogurt parfaits, having discovered that his fridge and pantry were miraculously full of groceries, when Zero walked in, no doubt following the smell of coffee. 

“What’s all this?” Zero asked, looking at the display of yogurt, berries, and various toppings. He was wearing t-shirt and jeans, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. 

“Breakfast,” said Jude and handed him a cup of coffee, plain black. 

“I was going to pick something up on the way, but this is nice.” Zero looked at Jude with a genuine smile. Jude fought the urge to walk up and kiss the baller good morning. He sipped his coffee instead and watched over the brim of his cup as Zero picked up one of the parfaits, dumped a generous amount of almonds and granola on top, and settled against the opposite kitchen counter to eat. 

“I’m meeting with Reebok today to negotiate your contract,” said Jude to fill the silence. “I think they’re waiting to see how tonight’s game goes before signing.” 

“In that case, tell them I want 10% more,” Zero said through a mouthful. 

“Are you sure? With or without the conference championship, your reputation is still recovering,” Jude shifted uncomfortably. He’d been planning on having this conversation days ago but — if his sore body was any indication — he’d been preoccupied lately. “Now that the Christian image is out, we need to discuss what we should go with next.” 

“What about a resident bad boy?” Zero suggested with a smirk. Jude shook his head. 

“I don’t know if that’s sustainable,” he said, trying to imagine the balancing act something like that would require. “Besides, do you really want so much drama and controversy for the rest of your career?” 

“Ok,” said the baller thoughtfully. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking more of a resident heartthrob.” Zero rolled his eyes, but Jude continued. “You’re hot. You’re rich. You’re well-spoken...”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the baller said dryly. 

“...42% of Devil’s fans are women, did you know that?” Jude said unfazed by Zero’s quip. “If we play our cards right — find more modeling opportunities like Armani, maybe guest-star on a TV show with a large female audience — your popularity will skyrocket.” 

“I don’t know...”

“Picture this,” Jude set his coffee down to gesture freely. “We market you as sophisticated, cultured, and well-travelled.” Zero frowned, but Jude was too lost in his vision to notice. “You like fine wine and vacation in the Hamptons. Think David Beckham. You’re rich but not flashy. Good but not saintly. Husband material but with sex appeal,” he finished the pitch with a grin. 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” said Zero skeptically. 

“Just _think_ about it.”

“I don’t know, Jude,” the baller said, sounding more and more frustrated. “You’re making me out to be some sort of golf nerd. Basketball is gritty. It takes street smarts and cojones to play the game.”

“I know, but —“

“I don’t want some kid — living in a dump, shoes two sizes too tight — with nothing good in his life ‘cept for playing ball, looking at me and thinking I was born with a silver spoon!” He said vehemently. “It’s not right.” 

“Ok,” said Jude, a little taken aback. “I hear you.” He’d never seen Zero lose control of his emotions before. He’d never so much as raised his voice until now. “I guess I’ll think of something else.” They fell into silence. Zero stared at the bottom of his bowl like it was the most interesting thing in the room, and Jude sipped his coffee just for the sake of having something to do. He snuck a glance at the baller, feeling like, once again, he knew next to nothing about the man. Just when he thought he had Zero figured out, the baller threw him for a loop. He was tempted to ask a follow up question, but he knew Zero avoided talking about his past like he was in the Witness Protection Program or something. _No more fights_, he reminded himself. 

“Regardless of the image we settle on,” said Jude, getting back to the topic at hand. “You need to make friends with some of your teammates. Rumor has it, they don’t trust you since the scandal. We need to show them you’re a team player.” 

“Yeah, ok,” said Zero without enthusiasm. He scraped the bowl clean and licked the spoon. “I’ll be a team player,” he said with a devilish smirk, getting up to leave. “Once I get to the top.” 

...

Jude met with Reebok but it didn’t go well. The representatives were dragging their feet. Jude tried to play it cool, suggesting that another shoe company was interested as well, but they didn’t bite. Frustrated, he cut the meeting short. Maybe they weren’t going to land the deal after all. 

Back at the office, Jude sighed and reached for his phone. He sent Derek a quick text asking to talk to him after the game. Careful not to write anything incriminating, he suggested they meet at Jude’s apartment for the sake of discretion. Derek sent a curt ‘fine’ as a reply. Next, Jude considered sending Zero an update about Reebok but decided to hold off for now. He wished him good luck instead. He was about to open his laptop and get back to work when his phone chimed. 

Z: “You call that a pep talk? You can do better than that.” Jude frowned. 

J: “How?”

Z: “How ‘bout we raise the stakes? If I win, you get to call the shots tonight.” 

J: “You mean...”

Z: “Yes, Jude. Now, let’s try that again.” Jude huffed, wondering if this was Zero’s thinly disguised attempt to make up for the night before. He took a moment to think about his reply, then his fingers flew across the keypad on their own accord. 

J: “You’re the best player on the team. You’re a better shooter than Derek, faster than Terrance, and smarter than the rest of them combined. Without you, the Devil’s would’ve never made it to the playoffs, let alone have a serious chance at the final. You can win this. You will win this.” Jude hesitated, then added, “I believe in you.” He stared at the screen as the “...” symbol started and stopped several times. Finally, Zero replied.

Z: “Christ, I love it when you go all _Team Zero_ on me. It’s better than sexting.” Jude laughed, his cheeks heated. “See you tonight.” He set his phone aside and wondered how he was going to get any work done. His insides clenched with anticipation. 

...

“Sorry,” Jude mumbled. “Excuse me.” He squeezed past avid fans decked out in jerseys, Devil horns, and pitchforks. Finding his seat, he looked around in awe. He’d never seen so much red and purple in his life. It was a sold-out crowd as the Devil’s hosted Phoenix Suns in the conference finals. 

The energy in the Arena was charged, so much so, that Jude couldn’t help but be swept away in the excitement. He cheered obnoxiously loud when Zero’s name was called, earning an appreciative look from the dude next to him who’s entire face and beard was covered in red and black paint. Sitting courtside — a surprise upgrade from the usual seat Jude’s agency reserved — he was close enough to hear the coaches shout encouragements, the players mutter amongst themselves at a good shot or a bad call, and reporters cover the game live, their play-by-play adding to the tension. 

Jude loved basketball. Ever since Oscar had bought the Devil’s, Jude couldn’t get enough of the game. It was fast-paced and intense, strategic and impulsive. He especially loved watching Zero play, appreciating the baller’s natural talent and honed skill, but tonight’s game was on another level. Jude felt every shot, miss, and foul like a visceral thing.

“It’s a nail-biting game at the Devil’s Arena tonight,” dictated a sport’s announcer close enough within earshot.“With 30 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the Devils are down 88 to 93. Terrance passes to Zero. Zero, looking for that opening, steps back, fires a deep three. Oh, it’s good!” The crowd went wild. The Jumbotron flashed a picture of Zero with flames in the background. “And it’s a two point game!” The whistle sounded, indicated a time out from Phoenix. Jude let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Zero’s teammates rushed to congratulate him, patting him on the back and grinning. Zero smiled, brushed them off, and searched the crowd. His eyes stopped when they met Jude’s. The eyebrow raise Zero gave him was so subtle, that Jude wasn’t sure he saw it correctly, but heat coiled in his belly at the promise nonetheless. 

“The Devils still down by two with time running out,” said the announcer when the teams were back on the court. “Thirteen seconds in the fourth quarter. 91 to 93. Terrence steals the ball. Fast break down the lane with 6 seconds left.” Jude forgot to breath. He watched Zero evade a big man from Phoenix, twisting his body, open for the pass. “Terrence passes to Derek. Roman shoots a three...and it’s in!” The buzzer sounded the end of the game. The stands erupted with cheering fans. The face paint guy jumped up and down, turning to Jude for a high five and leaving a red smear on Jude’s palm. “Devils win! Devils are the conference champions!” 

Jude’s throat felt thick with emotion. He was so proud of Zero. The man he’d helped recruit, the man he represented, the man he loved, had scored 23 points in the game, helping the Devil’s advance to the NBA finals for the first time in 5 years. He watched Zero celebrate with his teammates, Devil Girls, and assistant coaches. The DJ played “We are the Champions” while the crowd continued to cheer like they were waiting for an encore. Their joy was palpable. Jude clapped with the best of them until his hands were sore. Finally, the players started to walk off the court. Jude waited to see if Zero would look back one more time, but the baller filed through the exit without sparing him another glance.  
...

“Man, I got six parties I could be at,” Derek said, strutting into the apartment. “What’s so important?” Jude shut the door behind him and turned towards the baller. 

“Chase Vincent is out of jail,” Jude said, letting the words sink in. “The police are working on rebuilding their case against him, which means new digging.” That got Derek’s attention. His smile faltered. 

“You think they might find out about us and the coke?” Jude shrugged and stuck his hands into his pant pockets. He forced himself to calm down, not wanting to let Derek in on his anxiety over the investigation. 

“Olivia was blackmailing both of us. The police will be double checking every napkin she ever scribbled on. Who knows what they’ll find.” He paused to take a breath and moderate his tone of voice. Just thinking about the whole situation spiked his blood pressure. “I don’t even have an alibi for the night she died. Do you?” Derek straightened, his lips in a tight line. 

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, maybe we can help each other out,” Jude offered, hoping to sound casual. “I can be your alibi and you can be mine.” The baller relaxed, seemingly relieved, and Jude wondered if he had expected Jude to threaten or blackmail him into cooperation. 

“Cool,” said Derek, back to his usual arrogant self. At that moment, Jude happened to glance down to the coffee table and nearly choked, recognizing Zero’s keys on top of the morning paper. His mind raced. Where was Zero? How the hell had Jude missed seeing his Aston Martin parked outside? He glanced in the direction of the bathroom and wondered if Zero was listening to their conversation, and if not, if he was about to open the door and out them both. 

“Um,” Jude’s mind scrambled for something to say. “We’ll figure out the details tomorrow.” He steered Derek out of his apartment. “Have fun.” Jude barely had time to close the front door when he heard the bathroom door open. Zero came out, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and looking smug. “I didn’t realize you were here,” Jude said with forced lightness. 

“I was in the shower,” Zero replied, pointing to the bathroom unnecessarily. “You just get in?” 

“Yes. Yeah,” echoed Jude, feeling nauseous from adrenaline. He needed a moment to think, and Zero’s nakedness wasn’t helping. Zero smirked knowingly. “I’m just going to jump in the shower. Then we can celebrate that win.” 

Shutting the door, Jude wiped the steam off of the bathroom mirror and leaned against the sink. _Shit_, he thought. _Fuck!_ If Zero heard about the coke, he’d have enough ammunition to take Derek down for good. Jude didn’t know what to do. Should he ignore it? Cover it up? Beg Zero to forget all about it? Fighting down the panic, Jude reminded himself to be reasonable. After all, it was possible that Zero didn’t hear anything important. But Jude knew that the walls of his apartment were paper thin. Hell, he could hear his upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Baker, guess the answers to Wheel of Fortune every evening with surprising accuracy. Needless to say, his odds weren’t good. 

Jude studied his reflection in the mirror, inhaling through his nose with deliberate slowness. If Zero had overheard, it meant their relationship — or whatever it was — was over. Zero would have to decide what was more important, Jude or his ambition to make captain. And of course Zero would chose his career over Jude. He didn’t come to L.A. to be the first gay starter in NBA’s history, he came to be MVP. What did Jude expect? For Zero to fall in love? To be Jude’s boyfriend? To go public and risk his reputation all over again? Jude swallowed hard, knowing the answer. It was a fool’s dream, but he wasn’t ready to wake up. He wan’t ready to lose Zero. Just the thought of it made his heart ache. Goddamn it, Jude thought with desperate clarity, if that was the case, and this was their last night together, then he was going to make every moment count. 

Jude stormed out of the bathroom, startling Zero who was on the couch watching ESPN, and walked into the kitchen. Opening a cupboard, Jude pulled out a bottle of scotch, unscrewed the cap, and tipped it back for liquid courage. 

“I see you’ve picked up a thing or two from Lionel,” said Zero. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. “Is something wrong?” Jude didn’t reply. What was he supposed to say? Yes, something is wrong. You’re going to tip off a reporter about Derek, I’m going to be investigated, and this thing between us — this thing you can’t commit to, and it’s _killing_ me by the way— is over? He looked at the baller and swallowed hard. _God_, thought Jude, why did Zero have to be so beautiful? So charming? So downright intoxicating? 

Jude carefully set the bottle down on the counter, feeling the liquor pool in his stomach and settle his nerves. He looked back at Zero and squared his shoulders in resolve. 

“And here I thought you’d be happy to collect —“ 

“I’m calling the shots,” said Jude tonelessly, sick of the cocky front. “Remember?” He closed the distance between them and kissed the baller so fiercely that Zero let out a small punched out sound when their lips met. A part of him wanted to make love, to show Zero how much he cared for the man, how much he admired him, how much he wanted to share their lives together. Another part of him — the scared, angry, desperate part of him — wanted to fuck the baller into oblivion. 

The later won out, for the most part anyway. While Jude wanted to take Zero against the wall, or the floor, or the kitchen counter, he knew the baller was sore after a long season, icing injuries in secret, hiding bruises and scrapes under his clothes. So Jude walked them to bedroom and pressed Zero into the mattress under the weight of his taller frame. Jude was careful to dominate without crushing the man or causing him pain. 

He licked into Zero’s mouth, pressing his tented crotch against the baller’s towel-covered thigh, lightly grinding, and kissing in a steady rhythm. He was still fully clothed, wearing one of his “80’s dad suits” as Zero not-so-affectionately liked to call it, but he couldn’t be bothered to take it off. All he wanted was to kiss every inch of the baller’s body, expressing his wants and needs with physical touch. He kissed the man’s jaw, his neck, his collarbones...flicking his tongue across Zero’s earlobe, then nipping it playfully with his teeth. 

Zero rubbed against Jude in return, his breathing quickly growing faster and more ragged, his hands gripping the back of Jude’s suit in encouragement. Jude was tempted to keep going, the friction and foreplay was enough to make him come, but he forced himself to stop. He pulled away and smiled at Zero’s sounds of protest.

Rising to stand at the edge of the bed, Jude reached for the lube and condoms at the bedside table. He paused to admire Zero laying on his sheets, pupils blown from arousal, lips swollen from rough kissing, and skin glistening from exertion. He tried to commit the image to memory before clearing his throat and telling the baller to turn over. Surprised, Zero looked Jude up and down, indicated his suit and tie. When Jude didn’t move to take it off, Zero understood his intent and swore, drawing the word out for all it was worth. Obediently, he turned to stand on all fours in front of Jude. 

Jude pulled at the towel still draped over the baller’s backside. Tossing it aside, he ran an appreciative hand across the perfectly toned ass. Jude spread the cheeks with both hands, and with little warning, leaned in to lick Zero’s puckered hole. Zero swore and arched his back in surprise, then groaned in pleasure as Jude used the flat of his tongue to lick up, down, and around. Jude pressed the tip of his tongue inside, sliding it in and out, alternating between the two techniques until Zero’s thighs shook from the stimulation. 

Jude replaced his tongue with a slick finger, opening Zero slowly — too slowly, if the baller’s impatient muttering was any indication. So Jude added a second finger, then a third, until Zero was practically riding Jude’s hand and biting back telling Jude to hurry the fuck up. Finally, Jude withdrew and wiped his hands on the towel. He took off his tie, and studied the baller, dragging the silky material through his fingers in consideration. Up until now, Zero had set the pace, called the shots, and dominated in the bedroom. Sex with Zero had always been good, but now that their roles were reversed, Jude found it more intense and arousing than ever before. 

With a firm palm to Zero’s shoulder, he guided the baller into a chest down, ass up position. Frustrated and painfully hard, Zero reached down to squeeze himself and relieve the tension, but Jude interfered, taking both of the baller’s hands and holding them captive behind his back. Jude wrapped the silk tie around Zero’s wrists, knotting them firmly and deliberately, wanting to make it clear who was in charge. 

With the makeshift harness in one hand, Jude ran his other hand across the baller’s back, tracing the strong muscles and smooth, sun-kissed skin in a caress. He wanted to commit this moment to memory too. _My Adonis_, Jude thought lovingly. _My beautiful golden boy._ Zero said his name, his voice gruff, practically begging for Jude to stop stalling and get on with it. 

Jude huffed, effectively pulled out of his reverie. He straightened to undo his belt and zipper. Freeing his own cock, fully erect and glistening with precum, he rolled on a condom and covered it with lube. Then he navigated the head to Zero’s welcoming hole, wanting to take his time, but the baller took matters into his own hands. With a satisfied groan, Zero pushed back and impaled himself, balls deep, onto Jude’s cock.

For a moment, Jude forgot to breathe. He’d never done this to a man before. Never thought Zero would bottom, let alone like it. He fought to control his emotions, telling himself if he came now, he’d never hear the end of it. Slowly, he pulled back, then pushed in, fighting the urge to fuck with abandon. Zero tried to take over again, but Jude pulled on the tie and smacked his asscheek smartly, reminding him who was calling the shots. Zero’s sudden intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed, and Jude smiled at the idea that this big-shot baller, this alpha-male, liked to play the submissive once in a awhile. 

Jude set a steady rhythm. He held onto the harness with one hand and gripped his shirt and suit jacket to his abdomen with the other, mesmerized by the view of his cock sliding in and out of Zero. He watched the baller abandon all control and listened as Zero swore and said Jude’s name involuntarily, the words muffled by the mattress, but irrefutable and damning nonetheless. Jude liked hearing his name on the baller’s lips, desperate, broken, and pleading for release. He had half a mind to draw this out just to hear Zero say it again. 

After a few moments, the baller stiffened, and Jude felt the muscles around his cock clench. Zero slumped forward with a cry, boneless and out of breath. Surprised, Jude inhaled sharply. The idea that he’d made Zero come, untouched, was enough to drive him over the edge too. White light clouded his vision as Jude spilled his release, the orgasm so intense, it was borderline painful. 

Jude leaned against the baller, catching his breath and trying to regain his eyesight. 

“Fuck, Jude,” said Zero thickly. 

“Yeah,” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“What the hell was that?” 

“I don’t know,” admitted Jude. What he wanted to say was, _ I love you. Don’t leave me._ Instead, all he said was, “Again?” Zero chuckled. 

“Again? Really, Jude?”

“Again,” he said, straightening and carefully pulling out. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, not yet. “Only...” he looked down at his flaccid state, “I might need a minute.” Zero hummed in agreement. 

“Christ, you’re insatiable,” he said with closed eyes and a lazy, satisfied grin.  
...

Jude woke up at midnight with the distinct feeling that something was wrong. He rolled over to Zero’s side and found it empty. His phone and clothes were gone. Jude shut his eyes, knowing that the baller was probably with a reporter right now, telling them about Derek’s addiction and Jude’s involvement. Burying his face into Zero’s pillow, Jude inhaled his lingering scent. _Better to have loved and lost...right?_ he thought, feeling numb with disappointment, and mentally steeled himself for the fallout.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Devils compete in the NBA Final, Zero and Jude’s relationship feels like a rollercoaster ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I don’t know about you, but I could use a good distraction from reality at a time like this. One lovely reader asked for longer chapters, so I added some fluff moments between Jude and Zero just for you! I hope you enjoy the new chapter, and please feel free to let me know what you think! 
> 
> Also, I apologize in advance for getting the setting of the games wrong. I tried to change it afterwards, but it was too difficult to do without changing the entire chapter. So for reference, here is the schedule I had in my mind as I was writing: 
> 
> Location/Devil’s score  
Boston: win  
LA: loss  
Boston: loss  
LA: win  
LA: win  
Boston: loss  
LA: win

Jude took a sip of coffee and struck out the last sentence he’d skimmed with red ink. ‘Reduce non-compete from two to one’ he wrote in the contract’s margins. He’d gone through enough endorsement deals to know the legal loopholes and workarounds. He also knew the norm, and this company was pushing it. Jude sighed, not looking forward to a long meeting with the company’s representative to negotiate the changes. 

He was half way through the contract, when his phone vibrated with a call. It was Oscar. 

“Hello?”

“Jude,” he said without preamble. “I assume you know about Chase Vincent by now. The last thing I need is a police investigation during the Final.”

“Of course,” Jude said, unsure where Oscar was going with this. “What can I do?”

“I have reason to believe that a Devil’s associate, a woman, is pointing fingers. She’s trouble.” Jude stiffened, knowing that the woman in question was most likely Sloan or Raquel. He was about to say so when he stopped himself short. He didn’t know what Oscar would do if he found out. Would he fire them? Offer a pay-off? Or...or what? He wasn’t sure what his father was capable of, but something prevented Jude from telling the truth. 

“I understand,” he said tonelessly. 

“Let me know when you have a name.” The call disconnected. Jude stared at the iPhone in his hand. He’d spent two years in L.A. to get closer to Oscar, and all he had to show for it was a long list of errands he’d done free of charge, no questions asked. No ‘how are you, Jude?’. No ‘congratulations on your promotion, I wonder if you could do me a favor?’ Nothing. 

His phone vibrated again, this time with a text. Jude half-smiled at seeing the sender’s name. 

Z: “Hey, you busy? I’ll be at the Playground after practice if you want to join.” Jude chewed his lip, unsure how he felt about Zero reaching out. He woke up that morning alone, 99% sure that Zero’d snuck out in the middle of the night to leak Derek’s coke habit to the press. But if that was the case, then why was the baller acting like everything was fine? 

J: “Sure.” He replied because he was curious and cautiously optimistic. Maybe Zero didn’t want to play dirty after all. Jude was getting frustrated with Zero’s schemes and calculated lies. The more Jude thought about it, the more he was convinced that their original plan to split the dynamic duo, aka Terrance and Derek, apart wasn’t going to end well. He wanted to tell Zero to play a clean game, make allies, and regain his teammate’s trust instead of stooping to whatever methods Zero had in mind. In a couple of years — 

“Kinkaid,” someone said behind Jude’s desk chair, and he jumped a little in surprise. Jude swiveled around to see Lucus, Derek’s agent, leaning against the cubicle wall. He felt himself tense. Something about Lucus — with his dark, smiling eyes and suggestive tone of voice — made Jude feel uneasy. Interactions with the agent felt like an inside joke Jude was supposed to laugh at but didn’t understand. 

“What’s up?” Jude asked casually, hoping the guy would keep it short, whatever it was. Lucus smirked. 

“There’s an emergency meeting in ten.”

“What is it this time?” Jude asked, his stomach tightening. 

“ISN ran a story on Terrance. They claim he’s been playing injured.” 

“That sucks,” said Jude, relieved it had nothing to do with Derek.

“Not really our problem,” Lucus said with a shrug. “But Thomson wants everyone there.” He cocked his head to one side in thought, looking Jude up and down. “I’m sure we’ll be stuck in the meeting for hours, but maybe you and I can get a drink afterwards?” 

“Thanks,” Jude said with an apologetic smile, remembering Zero’s invitation for drinks at the Playground. “But I already have plans.” Lucus clicked his tongue and shook his head regretfully.

“You know what they say, ‘every strike brings me closer to a home run’ or something like that.”

“What?” Jude asked, confused. 

“Babe Ruth,” Lucus answered with a smirk, already turning away. “Never mind.” 

...

The meeting _was_ long. By the time Mr. Thomson dismissed the team, including every agent and junior agent associated with the Devil’s organization, lawyers, and social media managers, Jude was running late. He drove to the Arena, parked, and walked over to the Playground with his mind still buzzing over the recent scandal. __

_ __ _

Earlier that morning, Inside Sport’s Network had published an online article claiming that Terrance Wall was allegedly playing injured and had been for some time. It was a blow for Terrance and the Devils alike. Endorsement companies didn’t want their multi-million dollar investment to sit on the bench or worse, be forced into early retirement, and the Devils didn’t want their best point guard compromised. Their rivals, the Boston Celtics, were going to do everything in their power to win the Final, including using Terrance’s injuries to their advantage. It was a shitty situation all around. 

__

Jude spotted Zero sitting at the bar, watching the NBA Recap on Sport’s Network. He approached and nodded in greeting, turning his attention to the TV. The news ticker at the bottom of the screen read, ‘Devil’s Terrance Wall rumored to be playing injured’. Jude sighed. 

__

“Pretty nasty rumor about Terrance.”

__

“Not a rumor,” Zero answered, dragging out the first syllable. He took a drink of his beer and looked at Jude meaningfully. Surprised, Jude wondered what he meant until everything clicked into place. 

__

“You did this,” he said with sudden realization. Of course. It was just another part of Zero’s so called ‘Plan’. “What do you know?” 

__

“Well, let’s just say the Wall is coming down,” Zero said, looking smug at his own joke. “Get it?” He slapped Jude’s arm playfully. Jude answered with a forced smile, mind racing at the implications. 

__

“Wouldn’t Derek be the better target?” He asked, hoping to sound casual and failing. “If Terrance really is injured, isn’t Derek the bigger threat?” Zero nodded and studied Jude’s face thoughtfully. 

__

“I don’t have anything on Derek,” he finally answered. And that was that. Jude relaxed, knowing that by some miracle Zero hadn’t overheard his conversation with Derek because if he had, Zero wouldn’t have hesitated to take his competitor down. Jude felt relief followed quickly by disappointment. Not about Zero’s lack of eavesdropping, but about his strategy to get to the top by any means possible. 

__

He was hardly in a position to judge, Jude reminded himself, having done plenty of ethically-gray if not downright bad things for Oscar’s sake. Still, he looked at Zero out of the corner of his eyes, seeing the baller smirk at the news, and wondered just who exactly was this man, the person he thought he loved?

__

Jude watched the TV mindlessly. He was surprised when Raquel came up next to him and reached for the remote. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d broken into his apartment and later outsmarted him with Sloan. Her proximity made him uneasy, especially since it reminded him of Oscar’s phone call. Jude’s fuzzy feelings towards her were long gone, but he didn’t wish her any harm. It was why he hadn’t volunteered her name that morning, and why he was still struggling to figure out the right thing to do. 

__

“More big news out of Los Angeles. This one involving Chase Vincent, who is out of jail and in the clear,” the news anchor on the TV announced, getting Jude’s attention. He felt himself grow even more tense if that was possible. “Video footage of Chase Vincent has surfaced from a traffic camera at the time of Olivia Vincent’s murder. With Mr. Vincent no longer a suspect, police are reopening their investigation to find her killer.” 

__

Jude felt rooted to the spot, panic rising. It wasn’t like he didn’t know about Chase Vincent already, but hearing it again served as a reminder that on top of everything else, he had to worry about that too. 

__

“Hey, want a drink?” Zero said next to him. “You look like you need it.” Jude blinked, trying to get his anxiety under control. 

__

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I think — I think I should go home.” He glanced at Zero, who looked skeptical, and quickly added, “It’s been a long day.” The baller didn’t look convinced. 

__

“Come on then,” he said finally, getting up. “I’ll take you home.” 

__

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Jude argued. “I’m fine.” Zero glanced at Raquel, who had walked away but was still within hearing distance. He put a hand on Jude’s arm and leaned in to speak in confidence. 

__

“You don’t look fine, Jude,” he said in a low voice. “In fact, you look like you’re ten seconds away from a heart attack. Come on, let me drive you home.” When Jude didn’t move, Zero searched his face. “If this has something to do with Chase Vincent...if you’re somehow caught up in all of this...I can help. You can trust me.” 

__

“Can I?” Jude asked with sudden intensity. It was all too much, and with everything going on, he wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Maybe Zero was just with him for intel on Derek, or maybe Zero wanted information on Olivia’s murder, something he could use as blackmail against Jude, or Derek, or Raquel, or any of the other people Olivia had targeted to his advantage. What if Jude was just a pawn in Zero’s game, like everyone else? Zero dropped his hand in surprise. 

__

“Yes,” he said, sounding confused and a little hurt. 

__

“I’m sorry,” Jude shook his head. “I have a lot going on right now. I — I need some time.”

__

“Time? What are you talking about?” Zero asked, glancing at Raquel again. “I’m leaving for Boston first thing tomorrow morning. Don’t you want to hang out?” He said in a low whisper, then raised his eyebrow suggestively. “Wish me luck?” 

__

“If anyone needs luck, it’s Terrance,” Jude said angrily. “Did he trust you too?” Zero took a step back, looking at Jude like he’d sprouted a second head. “You’re acting like a fucking villain,” Jude hissed, no longer in control of his emotions. “First Sloan, then Terrance. When are you going to stop and realize that scheming your way to the top is going to backfire?”

__

“Lower your voice,” Zero said after regaining his composure and nodded towards a man and woman sitting at the bar nearby. Jude saw the couple look their way with nervous interest. He forced himself to breathe. “We should go somewhere more private.” 

__

“Why?” Jude asked with a huff. “So we can have sex?” 

__

“No...” Zero said calmly, his patience growing thin. “So we can talk.”

__

“Shocker.”

__

“Jude,” the baller sounded exasperated now. Jude sighed. 

__

“Fine.” Zero didn’t waste any time. With a hand firmly on Jude’s arm, he steered them towards the exit. They passed Raquel on the way, who looked up in surprise at their sudden departure, but Zero ignored her. He didn’t slow down until they were in front of his Aston Martin in the parking lot. Zero opened the passenger door and gestured wordlessly for Jude to get inside. When Jude obeyed, Zero shut the door with a resounding thud and walked around to the driver’s side. 

__

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a domineering jerk?” Jude muttered under his breath as Zero started the car. 

__

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a moody brat?” Zero fired back, pulling onto the highway, and accelerating beyond the speed limit. 

__

“Nice.”

__

“Yes,” said Zero, ignoring Jude’s immature quip. “I leaked Terrance’s injury to the press.”

__

“Because you’re a jerk.”

__

“Because he’s a liability to the team,” Zero corrected. “When I came to L.A., I expected Terrance to be the next LeBron James for all the hype around the guy. But this season, his game’s been mediocre at best. I know it. Derek knows it. And so does Pete, he’s just too damn loyal to do anything about it.”

__

“So the fact that he’s captain and up for MVP had nothing to do with it?” Jude asked bitterly. Zero exhaled through his nose sharply, glanced in the rear view mirror, and wove past several slower cars ahead. 

__

“He’s not up for MVP,” he corrected again. “He doesn’t have the stats. But as to your other point, yes, of course it had something to do with it. You know I want to be captain, I’ve told you as much.” Zero tailed a car ahead of him, forcing it to move into the right lane, and floored the gas pedal once the road was clear. Jude gripped the leather seat nervously, but the baller continued talking in a calm and measured way that was completely at odds with his driving. “I became a Devil mid-season. Within a week, I spotted everything wrong with the team: injuries, shitty work-ethic, and strategies that haven’t changed in over five years. I can’t do anything about it as the ‘new guy’, but I can as captain.” 

__

“Fine,” Jude conceded, relieved to see Zero exiting the highway and return to a relatively normal driving speed. “But do your methods have to be so...” he trailed off, unable to think of the right thing to say. 

__

“_Villainous_?” Zero echoed his earlier words, looking over at Jude with a mocking smile.

__

“Yes,” answered Jude, then added quickly, “Eyes on the road!” They were about to graze the mirror off of a parked car, but Zero evaded it easily, steering the Aston Martin recklessly close to cars parked all along Jude’s residential street. “Are you trying to get us killed?” Zero chuckled without humor, correcting the car to the center of the street. 

__

“That’s exactly our problem,” he said after a minute of silence. “You don’t trust my methods. You don’t trust me not to leave. You don’t trust me, period. It’s why you’ve been so high strung lately.” Jude huffed.

__

“Can you blame me?” He asked hotly, and Zero hummed in acknowledgement. 

__

“I’m not a saint, Jude,” Zero said looking straight ahead. “Then again, I can’t name a single successful person who got to where they’re at in life without getting their hands dirty. Your dad’s no exception.” Jude bristled, wanting to contradict the baller, but unable to. “But I —“ Zero continued. He was about to say something, then decided against it. “I _care_ about you. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You have to trust me with that much at least.” Jude was too stunned to speak. The words ‘I care about you’ rang in his head, and he was only vaguely aware as Zero pulled into the apartment’s driveway and parked the car. 

__

“You ‘care’ about me?” Jude repeated. Zero turned off the ignition, swallowed heavily, and looked at Jude with a bracing expression. 

__

“Yes, stupid,” he said in all seriousness. For a moment, the air between them felt thick and emotionally charged. Jude sniffed and looked down with furrowed brows. He didn’t know if the ache in his chest was from feeling joy, relief, or frustration. Maybe it was all three. “Hey,” said Zero, trying to lighten the mood. He patted Jude’s thigh in a surprising gesture of reassurance. “Why don’t we go inside and watch a movie, huh? James Bond? Maybe The Godfather? I can order takeout from that Italian place you like, you know, the one that serves sauce with a side of spaghetti?” Jude didn’t respond at first. He was too busy trying to process their conversation. After a few moments, however, he nodded.

__

“Ok,” he said, meeting Zero’s worried gaze with a small smile. 

__

They got out of the car and made their way to the front door. Jude couldn’t help but notice that it was a beautiful day. The sun was low in the sky, casting a gold glow across their surroundings. The air was warm and sweetly perfumed by the flowering trees and shrubs in the neighborhood. Jude paused, appreciating the sounds of songbirds and wind chimes underneath the constant hum of traffic noise. “Maybe we can go for a walk after dinner?” He suggested, turning the lock. 

__

“Tonight?” Zero looked round, noticing a group of teenagers across the street and a car idling in front of the building next door. He turned back to Jude, his lips in a tight line. “Let’s not get carried away.” 

__

...

__

Zero left for Boston the next day. Jude dropped Zero off at the airport, then drove to the office to start his workday. At noon, he had lunch with Lionel, who was still depressed over her failed movie and more anxious than ever for its premier. Despite being upset, Jude noticed she didn’t order her usual glass of wine and opted for an orange juice instead. Jude thought it was out of character, but he was happy to see that Lionel was learning to cope with stress without alcohol. He tried to reassure her again, explaining that it was only a matter of time before she landed another role and everyone would forget her expensive failure at the box office. She nodded, but didn’t seem convinced, so Jude promised to visit her house for a brainstorming session in the near future. 

__

Later that evening, Jude watched the game alone in his living room. He cheered for Zero, happy to see the baller play well and score high. He noticed Terrance was benched for the majority of the game, and maybe Zero was onto something, because the team didn’t play any worse in their captain’s absence. They won 115 to 110. He texted Zero a congratulations, and the baller responded with a few flirtatious texts in return. By the time Jude was equally frustrated and aroused, Zero ended their chat by saying he’ll be back to L.A. tomorrow in time for dinner. 

__

The following day, Jude went to work like normal. He tried to focus, but all he could do was anticipate Zero’s return and wonder how he could make their evening special. Eventually, a plan began to form in his mind, and he left work early to go shopping at his local Co-op for groceries and IKEA for everything else he needed to make his plan come to fruition. 

__

...

__

Jude circled the dining room table for the tenth time that night. He reached down to straighten one of the forks and smooth out a crease in the linen. Satisfied, he leaned back to admire his work. Considering that four hours ago, he didn’t even own a dining room table, let alone have it set properly with dinner plates, silverware, and a candelabra of all things, it looked pretty good. He was about to take off his apron, when he heard the lock turn in the front door. 

__

“Hello,” Jude said breathily when Zero came through the doorway. He looked tired but in good spirits. His eyes widened at seeing the living room dimly lit and the brand new dining table, complete with candles and a linen runner, set in the corner of the room. His eyes found Jude’s. 

__

“Hello yourself,” he said, looking Jude up and down, pausing to appreciate the striped apron Jude wore over his dress shirt and slacks. “What’s all this?”

__

“It’s, um...” Jude started, stopped, and cleared his throat nervously. “It’s just a little something to celebrate your first victory against Boston,” he said with a self-conscious shrug. His mouth suddenly felt dry when Zero dropped his duffel bag on the floor and came closer. When the baller was inches away, smiling knowingly at Jude, all Jude could do was lick his lips in anticipation. “Good game,” he whispered milliseconds before Zero leaned in for a kiss. 

__

It was unhurried and lingering, the type of kiss that filled Jude’s stomach with butterflies and made the room spin. When Zero finally pulled away, he sniffed the air and raised a brow in question. 

__

“Is that...pot roast?” 

__

“Yes,” Jude said with a laugh at seeing Zero’s excited expression. “With potatoes and carrots. It’s one of my mom’s slow cooker recipes.” 

__

“And you got a table?” Zero asked, turning to look at the display. 

__

“Yeah,” admitted Jude. “As much as I love leaning against the kitchen counter or eating at the coffee table, I thought a dining table would be nice for a change. I raided IKEA a few hours ago and came up with this. Not bad, right?” Zero whistled. 

__

“It’s impressive,” he said, looking at Jude in admiration. Jude felt himself flush with the praise.

__

“You’re in a good mood,” he observed. Zero shrugged and reached over to trace the blue stripes on Jude’s apron. “We won our first game. I’m about to eat a home cooked meal. And...”

__

“And?” 

__

“And I’ve missed this,” Zero said, his voice quiet but intense. He leaned in to kiss Jude for a second time. It started out innocent enough, but quickly escalated to Jude being pinned against the wall with a blossoming hickey under his open shirt collar. Jude pulled away, looking thoroughly kissed and out of breath, and pushed at Zero’s chest to make space between them. 

__

“We should eat,” he protested lightly. 

__

“Now?” Zero asked in surprise. The make-out session left him looking worse for wear. His blond hair was mused, his shirt rumpled, and his jeans tented. 

__

“Yes, now,” Jude answered sternly. “You know I’m not much of a cook. I went to a lot of trouble, and I don’t want everything to taste cold and soggy in a half hour.” 

__

“You’re killing me,” Zero groaned, pushing himself away from Jude reluctantly. 

__

“You’ll live,” Jude said flatly. “Just wait until you try the salad I made for our starter. Oh, and remember to save room for desert.” Zero’s eyes grew dark, and he smiled suggestively at Jude’s remark. “No, not that,” Jude said quickly, then amended, “I mean yes, _that_ — if you want to. But I made cookies from scratch. They only take a few minutes to bake. I thought I could put them in the oven while we’re finishing our entree...what?” Jude asked since Zero was wearing a strange expression. 

__

“Cookies?” Zero asked. 

__

“Well yeah,” Jude said with a shrug. “I don’t know if you remember, but the first time you came to this apartment, you said you thought I’d have —“

__

“—cookies in the oven. Yeah,” said Zero in a tone of voice Jude couldn’t decipher. “I remember.” 

__

“I thought it would be funny. Like a full circle,” Jude said with another shrug. 

__

“Funny...” Zero said vaguely. 

__

“You okay?”

__

“Mm-hmm,” said Zero, brushing off whatever was on his mind. He smiled. “And if I remember correctly, you thought I called you Martha Stewart — which I didn’t, by the way — but look at you now. Cooking dinner, setting the table, and wearing an apron.”

__

“Yeah, yeah,” Jude rolled his eyes and made his way towards the kitchen. “I’m a regular homemaker,” he said over his shoulder. 

__

... 

__

After their first victory against Boston, the Devils had a few days to recover before they hosted the next game in L.A. Jude tried to be supportive as an agent and as Zero’s...significant other? It was still unclear what they were, but Jude tried to be content with the baby steps they were taking. Zero spent the majority of his free time at Jude’s apartment, and after a while, the baller was comfortable enough to relax and be himself. 

__

Jude was surprised to learn that Zero liked to read old paperbacks, usually Westerns, before falling asleep. Unlike Jude, who predominantly read non-fiction and used a bookmark, Zero dog-eared his pages or wedged whatever was around — a gum wrapper, a receipt, and one time to Jude’s horror, he’d found a torn condom foil that littered the edge of their bed and used it to mark his spot. Needless to say, Jude made sure to vacuum their bedroom floor the next day. 

__

Jude was also surprised to learn that Zero liked to do chores. He volunteered to wash their dishes by hand, saying he found mindless tasks like washing dishes to be therapeutic, and Jude enjoyed working alongside the baller to dry and put the items away. Sometimes they would talk about basketball, other times about the plot in one of Zero’s novels, but mostly, they worked in companionable silence. 

__

It wasn’t perfect by any means. Jude still struggled with the impenetrable walls surrounding Zero and anything to do with his past. Whenever Jude pried for more information, the baller would shut down, and their conversations would be strained for the rest of the evening. Sex was their great equalizer. No matter if Jude was frustrated with Zero for being too distant or if Zero was frustrated with Jude for being too clingy, Zero had a rule about not going to bed angry and sex was his go-to cure. 

__

It was easy to be content when Jude felt boneless, satiated, and high on endorphins. Afterwards, however, a nagging feeling in the back of Jude’s mind warned him that their happiness could not last. That Zero still refused to label their relationship and avoided any conversations that had to do with the future. Like the true self-saboteur he was, Jude looked for signs that Zero was losing interest or getting tired of their secluded lifestyle. He didn’t voice his insecurities often, but when he did, Zero’s response was usually impatient and dismissive, like he couldn’t believe Jude _still_ felt uneasy. 

__

“This again?” Zero asked one evening. He let out a frustrated sigh and turned the faucet off to look at Jude. 

__

“I just want to know what to call you,” Jude said, drying a plate and avoiding making eye contact with the baller. “Are you my boyfriend? My lover? A friend with benefits?”

__

“Why does it matter?” 

__

“Well, what if I was talking about you to a friend. What am I supposed to say?” Zero shrugged. 

__

“Whatever you want, I guess.” He went back to washing the dishes. 

__

“Right,” said Jude sarcastically. “Except I can’t mention your name, or your job, or anything else that might give you away...” 

__

“True,” Zero admitted. He turned the faucet off again. Taking the plate out of Jude’s hands and setting it down on the counter, Zero wrapped his hands around Jude’s waist. “But you _can_ mention how sexy I am.”

__

“Zero...”

__

“How charming,” the baller mumbled, pressing a kiss to Jude’s neck. “How talented.” He kissed the corner of Jude’s jaw. “How _irresistible_.” His lips found Jude’s. And suddenly, Jude couldn’t remember why the heck he’d been upset just a moment ago. 

__

...

__

The Devil’s lost their second game. What’s more, Zero took a tumble after colliding with another player 50 pounds heavier than himself. Nothing was broken or sprained, thank God, but the bruises that colored his back and arms were enough to make Jude immobile with shock. 

__

“It’s nothing,” Zero insisted after Jude’s stuttered exclamations. 

__

“Nothing?” Jude nearly yelled, aghast. “You’re black and blue!” 

__

“And you’re overreacting,” Zero said in a calm, reasonable tone of voice. “Coach gave me a couple of days off to recover. I wasn’t going to show you, but...” He scrunched up his nose like he was about to say something unpleasant. “It hurts like a sonofabitch, and I can’t seem to apply this muscle relaxant stuff by myself.” He held up a container of Biofreeze Gel with a grimace. 

__

“Give me that,” Jude said, taking the container from the baller’s hands. He instructed Zero to sit on the ottoman and settled besides him, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “This is insane,” he muttered while massaging the ointment into Zero’s skin. He felt the baller shrug.

__

“This is nothing,” said Zero again. “I’ve had sprains, jammed fingers, deep bruising...you name it. It comes with the territory.” 

__

“Objectively, I know that,” Jude said, sliding his hands across the baller’s shoulders. “But seeing it in real life...” He shook his head. “I thought I was going to have an aneurysm.” Zero stiffened. 

__

“Huh,” he said in that typical, non-discernible way of his. After a moment, he caught Jude’s hands and held them still.

__

“What?” Asked Jude, worried. “Too much?” Zero shook his head. He started to say something, but changed his mind before he could get the words out. 

__

“No,” he said finally. “It’s perfect.” 

__

...

__

A week later, the Devils went to Boston for game three. They lost 110 to 108. Zero’s mood soured. He was hurt, he was tired, and he was starting to butt heads with his teammates. Jude tried to encourage him, but Zero’s replies were gruff and monosyllabic. He didn’t argue when Zero decided to spend the next night in his own apartment. Or the four nights after that. He knew the baller needed space, and while his instinct was to run after Zero and make sure they were okay, he backed off instead. 

__

It was strange for Jude to have the apartment to himself. Quiet. He went about his days, making too much coffee because he was used to sharing it with Zero, and keeping to his side of the bed even though there was no one on the other side. Zero didn’t text or call, and Jude wondered if he was going to say anything at all before leaving for Boston again. 

__

On the other hand, he _did_ get texts and calls from Oscar. He wanted to know if Jude’d made any progress on identifying the woman causing all his problems. Jude had stalled as long as he could, but he felt the pressure. A part of him wanted to confide in Zero and ask for his opinion, but that would mean explaining about Derek and the coke and Sloan and Raquel’s investigation into Oscar’s embezzlement. He couldn’t do that. It would be disloyal to his father. 

__

...

__

Jude lowered the iPhone from his ear and stared at the screen. Sure enough, Oscar had disconnected without warning. Apparently, “get it done” was all he had to say. Jude tried to go back to work, but he was too distracted to do anything productive. Later that evening, when Lionel reminded him that they had dinner plans to discuss her movie, Jude drove to her house, but his heart wasn’t in it.

__

“Ecstasy’s failure at the box office has led the studio to put their next two movies with Lionel Davenport on ice,” she read from a People’s magazine in her hands. “Well, this is a nightmare.” She handed the magazine to Jude and dropped into the wicker chair across from him in a huff. Jude took the magazine and looked over the article without really reading. “What’s the matter?” Lionel asked, sounding irritated. “Not interesting enough for you?”

__

“Sorry,” Jude sighed and rolled the magazine nervously in his hands. “It’s Oscar.” 

__

“What about him?” She asked with disgusted indifference, as if Oscar was nothing more than a piece of gum stuck to the sole of her Louis Vuitton’s. 

__

“He called me this morning,” Jude admitted. “He thinks there might be a woman targeting him.” Lionel scoffed. 

__

“So?” 

__

“So I know there is,” Jude said in frustration. He leaned forward. “I made a deal to stop it. At least I thought I did.” Lionel shrugged, looking at Jude like he was making a big deal out of nothing. 

__

“So tell him,” she suggested. Jude sighed. 

__

“If I did,” he said slowly, unsure how much he should share with Lionel. “It would be bad for me.” That finally got her attention. She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

__

“How bad?” She asked, studying his face. Jude swallowed heavily. 

__

“Prison bad.” 

__

“Jude!” 

__

“I can’t let him be taken down,” he continued, adamant. “Lionel, he’s my father.” She made a face. 

__

“He’s a sperm donor,” she said emphatically. Jude’s hands tightened around the magazine. Lionel was his friend, but she could never understand his desire to please his father. She hated Oscar, found him revolting and no better than the countless studio execs and producers that abused their position of power in her industry. Unlike Lionel, Jude had nothing but respect and admiration for Oscar. Sure, he wasn’t blind to the man’s faults, but Jude knew that the climb to success was messy and not for the faint of heart.

__

While Jude’s relationship with Oscar wasn’t close, he came to L.A. to change just that. If he could only prove to Oscar that he was worth having around, that he could be useful and resourceful, then maybe his father would start paying attention. 

__

“I need to go think,” he said, shaking his head and tossing the article onto the coffee table. “I’m sorry.” He stood up to leave before Lionel could argue. He could see that she was disappointed, but in truth, their meeting wasn’t going to amount to much anyways. Lionel wanted a quick fix, and Jude respected her too much to spoon-feed her the lies she wanted to hear. He leaned down and kissed her cheek in a way of apology before heading to the Arena to find Raquel. 

__

...

__

Jude stood outside of the Playground’s supply closet, hoping that Raquel was doing inventory since she was not at the bar. He paced the hallway, mentally preparing himself for the confrontation. If Oscar was right, and she and Sloan were still causing trouble, it meant they were doing it behind Jude’s back. Didn’t he warn them not to continue their investigation or he would tell Oscar everything? Well, he was determined to do so, but he had to be 100% sure before casting stones. 

__

Something made him look up, and he was surprised to see Derek advancing on him. 

__

“Derek, hey,” Jude greeted him distractedly. 

__

“You and Zero,” the baller said in a low, threatening tone of voice. 

__

“W-what?” Confused, Jude took a step back. 

__

“What did you promise Zero to get him to L.A.?” Derek continued to advance, unfazed by Jude’s stuttered reply. Jude retreated automatically even as his mind raced to understand the situation. It was obvious Derek either knew or suspected something, but Jude didn’t know how much the baller knew exactly. He decided to heed the same advice his agency doled out to countless clients, namely deny deny deny. 

__

“Promise?” Jude repeated, feigning ignorance. “He signed a 30 million dollar —“ But Derek didn’t buy it.

__

“He’s been playing me and Terrance against each other since day one,” he said sharply, and Jude took another step back. “Why would he think he could do that? The only ones who knew how bad things were between me and T were me, T, and _you_.” Derek underlined the last word with a pointed finger in Jude’s face. 

__

“Derek —“ said Jude, his words futile. He was starting to feel cornered and panicky. He backed away until his shoulders hit the door of the supply closet. Derek narrowed his eyes, and Jude winced in the anticipation of a blow. The baller was intimidating on a good day. Now, with his tense muscles and angry, slitted eyes, Derek was downright terrifying.  
“You went from a desk jockey to his agent,” Derek continued, practically spitting out the words. “From a bus pass to tooling around in a brand-new Porsche with _his_ name on the pink slip.”

__

“I’m — I’m good at my job...” Jude said in a last-ditch effort to de-escalate the situation. 

__

“Deny it again,” said the baller in a dangerously low tone of voice. Jude didn’t dare say anything else. His eyes flickered to Derek’s clenched fists subconsciously, and he swallowed hard. After a moment of tense silence, Derek shook his head in disgust and backed off. “Does he know about the coke?” 

__

“No!” Jude said quickly, hating the quiver in his own voice. When Derek looked skeptical, Jude continued out of sheer desperation. “Derek, come on. This is — we need each other. You’re my alibi for Olivia. I’m yours.”

__

“Screw that,” said the baller, turning away without waiting for a response. It was as if, on second thought, he no longer considered Jude a threat, just an annoyance. 

__

“Derek!” Jude called after him. He had to do something to stop the man from leaving. He couldn’t worry about the investigation again, not on top of everything else. “I’m dealing with something right now,” he said, voice pleading. “If you take my alibi on top of that...I’m under water.” Derek turned, and for a moment, Jude thought the baller would change his mind. Then Derek’s face hardened. He leaned in for emphasis and, with a couple of last words, effectively squashed what little hope Jude had left. 

__

“Drown, bitch.” 

__

...

__

Jude sat in his car, staring at the iPhone screen in his hands. Zero’s contact information was up, and Jude debated whether or not to press the call button. He was a loss of what to do, and he needed someone to talk to. Maybe Zero could talk him off of the ledge. Oddly enough, the baller’s cool logic was like a balm to Jude’s anxiety. He could make anything seem simple and attainable. Jude’s fingers continued to hover over the screen when the phone vibrated with an incoming call. It was Oscar. 

__

“Da - Oscar?” Jude answered after the first ring. 

__

“Jude,” his dad replied, his voice cold. “I had the distinct pleasure of a homicide detective coming into my office today. To ask questions. You can imagine what those questions were about...” 

__

“Olivia?” 

__

“Among other things.” Meaning, Sloan and Raquel must have tipped off the police about Oscar’s gambling, game-setting, and embezzling. “I’m very disappointed in you, Jude.”

__

“Sir?”

__

“I thought you would have the name of that woman by now.” Jude hung his head in defeat. After his confrontation with Derek, Jude didn’t stick around to talk to Raquel. He went straight to his car. Now he didn’t need to talk to Raquel to know that she and Sloan had reneged on their deal. It was time he told Oscar everything. 

__

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve had a lot on my plate.” When Oscar didn’t sympathize, Jude continued. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

__

“What is it?”

__

“I think it’s better if I do it in person. Can I stop by in 30 minutes?” 

__

...

__

Oscar’s steward answered the front door. Jude nodded his thanks and made his way to his father’s office, noting the house’s grandeur in passing. He’d only ever been to Oscar’s mansion a handful of times before, either for a fundraiser or a Devil’s social event but never for a personal reason. That is, until now. 

__

Nearing the office, Jude glanced up a portrait of Oscar. It was a large, oil-on-canvas painting of his father ten years younger. He looked taller and more handsome than Jude remembered. Almost presidential. Jude stopped to take a closer look and marveled at the artist’s ability to capture Oscar’s expression. From his faint smile, to his shrewd eyes, to his air of superiority and disappointment that Jude found all too familiar. 

__

“Come in,” he heard his father say, and Jude braced himself for another difficult conversation. His plan was to tell Oscar about Sloan and Raquel, apologize for trying to handle it himself, and reassure his father that despite Jude’s hesitation, he was loyal to Oscar above all else. He wanted to keep their conversation simple and to the point, not letting Oscar read too much into Jude’s poor judgement and misguided trust when it came to the two women. He cleared his throat and walked into the room. 

__

“Oscar,” Jude said in greeting. With a paper in hand, his father sat behind a large, mahogany desk. He didn’t look up. “You have a second?” Again, Jude waited to be acknowledged, but Oscar continued to read his newspaper without sparing a glance in Jude’s direction. Jude was used to Oscar’s...well, for lack of a better word, _indifference_ towards him, but now, it felt like something else. Instead of indifference, Jude couldn’t shake the feeling of something akin to _dislike_ coming from his father. “I agonized over this,” Jude continued despite his gut feeling that something was wrong. “But I finally decided I have to tell you something. Something I’ve known about for a while, and I should have told you sooner.” He swallowed hard and added, “No matter what it cost me.” 

__

“I know,” said Oscar heavily. Surprised, Jude watched as his father finally lowered the newspaper and rose from his chair, unhurried.

__

“You do?” If that was the case, Jude wondered, then why did Oscar hound him for a name? Was the whole thing a test? A strange, convoluted exercise of trust? 

__

“Before the groundbreaking,” said Oscar, making his way to the built-in bar. “I had Olivia Vincent followed. I know she met with you.” He opened a decanter and filled a tumbler with two fingers of amber liquid. Confused, Jude tried to follow his father’s line of reasoning. What did that have to do with Sloan and Raquel? “I assume she was holding something over you,” Oscar continued. “Trying to get you to turn against me.” 

__

“Yeah,” admitted Jude, still uncertain as to where Oscar was going with this. “But I never would have.” 

__

“Ah,” said his father, gesturing towards Jude with the glass. “The thing is, with Chase exonerated, anyone Olivia threatened becomes a suspect in her murder.” He took a sip. Suddenly, Jude connected the dots. 

__

“You think _I_ killed Olivia?” He asked, and Oscar huffed at Jude’s indignant tone of voice. 

__

“I don’t really know you, Jude,” said his father simply. “So I had you checked out. And now, I know what she threatened you with.” Jude stiffened. He searched Oscar’s face, wondering what Oscar would do with the knowledge that his son was dealing cocaine to his star player. Jude waited for an outburst, for another heated conversation like that with Derek, but it never came. Instead, Oscar came over to sit at the corner of his desk and continued to speak in a light, conversational manner that made Jude’s skin crawl. 

__

“Your neighbor says you have a regular visitor. A gentleman. Apparently your walls are thin and the two of you are...rather loud.” When Jude was too shocked to speak, Oscar scoffed. “If you thought confessing your secret, gay life was going to bond us...” He waved the tumbler in Jude’s direction. “Then you know me about as well as I know you.” 

__

“Your mother was a simple woman who knew her limitations,” his father continued dispassionately, and again, Jude’s mind reeled with the sudden change of topic. “She was too small for the big life I was making,” Oscar said with a shrug. “So she gave up and moved on. You’ve been trying to take after me. Maybe you should try to take after her instead.” 

__

“Huh,” was all Jude could manage. 

__

“You will never have my approval,” said Oscar with finality. He turned away to round the desk and return to his seat. Jude’s mouth hung open like he’d been gut-punched. He couldn’t understand how their meeting had gone so wrong. 

__

“Dad,” Jude said, his voice cracking. “I—” But Oscar stopped him with a scathing look. 

__

“I don’t have a son.” He picked up the newspaper again, flicking his wrists to straighten the page. He took a moment to find his previous place and raised the tumbler for another sip. “I assume that’s all you came to say,” Oscar said without looking up. Shocked, Jude felt rooted to the spot, but he knew a dismissal when he heard one. He forced himself to take a deep inhale and exhale. 

__

“Yeah,” he said, nodding in resignation. “That’s all.” 

__

...

__

Jude drove to his apartment on autopilot. A small part of him was holding out hope that Zero would be there to greet him, but when Jude stepped inside, he was greeted with nothing but a dark living room and the stale smell of unwashed dishes piling up in the sink. He didn’t bother to turn on the light or to take off his suit jacket. Tossing the keys aside, he made his way to the couch with only the faint glow of the digital clock on his desk to guide him. 

__

Jude sank to the floor and let his head fall forward. He didn’t know how his conversation with Oscar had turned from talking about Sloan and Raquel, to Olivia, to Jude’s sexuality. He didn’t know why Oscar thought Jude was there to come out of the closet. Worse, he didn’t understand why his father would disown him over something so...so...Jude couldn’t think of the right word. Trivial? Personal? Non-of-his-fucking-business? What did it matter that Jude was gay? He never thought to use his sexuality for pity points or as something to bond over. The fact that Oscar had jumped to those conclusions only highlighted how little he knew Jude. How little he _thought_ about Jude, in all honesty. 

__

Two years. Thought Jude bitterly. Two years he spent doing the man’s bidding. All the spying, the pay-offs, the cover-ups...it made Jude sick to think about it. His conscious was riddled with guilt, and for what? For two years wasted on a man who never once bothered to ask Jude about his day. It would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. His mom had been right all along. “He’s a monster in a nice suit,” she’d said once to describe Oscar. “Don’t idolize the man.” 

__

Jude wondered if he shouldn’t call it quits. Other than landing his job as Zero’s agent, L.A. had little left to offer. He didn’t have a father. He didn’t have a boyfriend. Hell, he didn’t even have a friend, not really. Lionel was too busy with her own problems. And Zero...well, Zero wanted to avoid labels like boyfriend or friend with benefits. To Zero, having no labels meant freedom, to Jude, it meant instability. Where was Zero when Jude needed him most? They hadn’t talked in days. 

__

The sound of a key turning the lock made Jude look up. What where the odds...Jude wondered idly as he saw Zero’s silhouette walk through the door and flick the hallway lights on. Speak of the Devil. 

__

“Fuck!” Zero said loudly with a hand to his chest. “Jude? What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark? I thought you were out.” When Jude didn’t say anything, Zero dropped his duffel bag and jacket to the floor and went to turn on the living room light as well. “What’s wrong?” He asked after seeing Jude’s crestfallen expression. 

__

“Nothing,” Jude said with a shake of his head. “It’s been a shitty day, that’s all.” Zero backed up. Instead of sitting on the couch, he leaned against the desk and studied Jude with a wary expression. 

__

“It’s not nothing. I can see that much,” he said, his voice guarded. “Is it something I did?” 

__

“More like didn’t do,” mumbled Jude. Then he sighed, the fight going out of him. “It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s Oscar.” 

__

“What about him?”

__

“I went to see him.”

__

“And?” Zero prompted, his voice surprisingly gentle. 

__

“And...” Jude continued flatly. “I was going to warn him. Someone was causing him trouble, and I was going to tell Oscar about it.” Jude laughed without humor. “Instead, Oscar thought I was there to confess my ‘secret gay life’. Apparently, my neighbor —” He looked up at the ceiling meaningfully, “told Oscar all about a frequent male visitor of mine. Don’t worry,” he hurried to add when Zero stiffened. “Oscar doesn’t know who you are. He knows that we fuck loudly and often,” he said wryly, “but he doesn’t know your name.”

__

Jude expected for Zero to be angry. After all, they were lucky that Mrs. Baker was old and knew nothing about basketball. Had she been a sport’s enthusiast, or worse, an opportunist, they would have had a scandal on their hands. 

__

“What else?” Zero asked, and to Jude’s surprise, he didn’t sound ruffled. 

__

“Let’s see...” continued Jude bitterly. “Then he said he didn’t approve of my lifestyle. He called my mother too small and simple-minded to appreciate his vision. He said I should stop aspiring to be like him and try to be more like her instead. Oh, and — this is my favorite part — he said he doesn’t have a son.” 

__

“I’m sorry,” said Zero, and suddenly Jude’s anger — which had been sparked by Zero’s unexpected reappearance — was effectively snuffed out by those two simple words. Jude’s shoulders dropped. 

__

“‘I don’t have a son,” repeated Jude, looking straight ahead instead of at Zero. “That’s how he said it. Just like that.” Jude swallowed thickly. “I keep reaching out to people. To you. To Oscar. Just _once_,” he said, his voice catching. “I’d like someone to reach back.” 

__

Jude could hear his own words echo in the silence that followed. He expected for Zero to do one of two things (if their previous conflicts were any indication): he’d either leave or try to distract Jude with sex. He was surprised when Zero didn’t do any of those things. Instead, Jude heard the baller open a desk drawer and reach for something inside.

__

No...Jude thought with rising dread. He knew what Zero held even before the baller dropped it at Jude’s feet. It was the red envelope. Olivia’s blackmail. Zero settled besides Jude, back against the couch, and mirrored Jude’s posture. He glanced away, giving Jude a moment to understand the significant of his gesture. And Jude did. Slowly, it dawned on him that Zero wasn’t dredging up another scandal, he was demonstrating his fraternity to Jude. 

__

“You heard my conversation with Derek about the coke,” Jude guessed and looked at Zero for confirmation. “You could have used it to hurt him, but you didn’t because it would hurt me.” Jude couldn’t help but sound hopeful. The baller shrugged.

__

“Don’t make a thing out of it,” he said with a fleeting smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes, and Jude’s hope instantly faltered. Right, he thought with a tight-lipped smile in return; but upon seeing Jude’s defeated expression, Zero sobered. “My folks gave me up,” he said, surprising Jude. “To foster parents who collected kids to collect the checks. You think I came up with Zero?” Jude shook his head, caught off-guard in Zero’s sudden honesty. “That’s what they called me. Zero.” He huffed like it was no big deal, but Jude could hear the pain in those words. “I kept it. I showed them how big Zero _could_ be.”

__

“What’s your real name?” Jude asked without thinking, and when Zero didn’t immediately reply, Jude wanted to kick himself for interrupting. 

__

“I’m telling you this for a reason,” the baller continued to Jude’s relief. “Just because people are supposed to care about you, doesn’t mean that they will. The sooner you forget about Oscar, the better off you’ll be.” 

__

Jude shook his head and held the red envelope between his fingers. He was equally surprised and moved by Zero’s confession, and he wanted to give it the attention it deserved, but the only thing he could think about now was his disappointment over Oscar. He wished he could do what Zero suggested, but it wasn’t that easy. 

__

“You have no idea what I’ve done for the man,” he said with without intonation.

__

...

__

“Jude.”

__

“Hmm?”

__

“You can stop.”

__

“No...” Jude protested half-heartedly. “This is delicious.” He took another bite of the chicken. Jude knew it was good objectively, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow.

__

“You’ve been pushing your food around for the last ten minutes,” said Zero, taking Jude’s plate. “You can tell me the truth. I won’t be offended.”

__

“You’re right,” said Jude with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just not hungry.”

__

“Still thinking about Oscar?”

__

“What else?” Jude asked with a laugh. “That, and the fact that Derek refuses to be my alibi for the night of Olivia’s murder.” Zero gave him an assessing look. 

__

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jude shook his head. If Zero knew about the red envelope, then he probably had everything else figured out too. “What about me?” Zero asked. “I can vouch for you.”

__

“Thanks,” said Jude, touched that Zero would even offer. “But you were in Miami for a photo-shoot at that time.”

__

“So what?” Zero said with a shrug. “I can say I flew you in for moral support.”

__

“I appreciate it,” said Jude. “I do, but would need proof that I was there — a plane ticket or a receipt. Without anything substantial, the police could easily discredit my story.” 

__

“Hmm,” acknowledged Zero without saying anything else. They fell into silence. Jude looked down, lost in thought. He wondered about Zero’s confession, and slowly, he started to piece together the implications. The scars, the lack of family, the fierce independence...it all made sense. He wondered what Zero’s foster family was like or if he had more than one. Were they strict? Were they mean? Were they abusive? He had more questions now than ever before. 

__

After a while, Zero took their plates to the kitchen and started washing the dishes by hand. When Jude followed to help, Zero told him to go and relax, so Jude settled in front of the TV and mindlessly watched ESPN until Zero’s body blocked his view. 

__

“Come on,” the baller said with an outstretched hand. 

__

“Where are we going?” Jude asked, accepting Zero’s assist and getting up. He hoped Zero didn’t want anything physical. For once, he wasn’t in the mood. 

__

“Shower,” said Zero and pulled Jude towards the bathroom. Jude followed, not having the strength to say no. 

__

“Zero, I — ” started Jude. 

__

“I know,” said Zero. He turned the water on and helped Jude get undressed. “I won’t ask you to.” 

__

Jude thought it was strange to have Zero — naked and half-hard — behind him without doing anything sexual, but it was nice all the same. Zero offered to wash Jude’s back, and when the baller’s hands lathered soap into Jude’s skin, it felt like a caress more than anything else. Jude leaned into the touch and allowed himself to enjoy the moment without overthinking it. He wished it could always be like this between them, easy and tender and without the constant push and pull. 

__

“You know what I like about you, Jude?” Zero asked to break the silence, and Jude huffed in response.

__

“My ass?” He guessed, anticipating a joke. 

__

“That’s a given,” said Zero, squeezing Jude’s asscheek lightly in acknowledgement. “But I was going to say your loyalty.”

__

“Really?” Jude asked in surprise. He turned to look at the baller and squinted against the water spray. 

__

“Yes, Jude,” said Zero with a twitch of his lips. “Really. I think it’s admirable, but it was wasted on Oscar. He didn’t deserve it.” Zero kissed Jude’s shoulder, and Jude’s chest suddenly felt tight. “He didn’t deserve you.” 

__

“I...” Jude searched for the right words. He was overwhelmed with Zero’s praise, his kindness, his physical proximity...it was enough to make Jude’s head spin. Without planning to, he said the only thing he could think of. The one thing that was ever-present on his mind. “I love you.” 

__

Zero stiffened. Abruptly, the air between them was unbearable, too hot and too thick with steam. Jude held his breath, waiting for the baller to say _something. Anything_.

__


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude gives Zero an ultimatum.

Previously on Hit the Floor...

Jude thought it was strange to have Zero — naked and half-hard — behind him without doing anything sexual. But it was nice all the same. Zero offered to wash Jude’s back, and when the baller’s hands lathered soap into Jude’s skin, it felt like a caress more than anything else. Jude leaned into the touch and allowed himself to enjoy the moment without overthinking it. He wished it could always be like this between them, easy and tender and without the constant push and pull. 

“You know what I like about you, Jude?” Zero asked to break the silence, and Jude huffed in response.

“My ass?” He guessed, anticipating a joke. 

“That’s a given,” said Zero, squeezing Jude’s asscheek lightly in acknowledgement. “But I was going to say your loyalty.”

“Really?” Jude asked in surprise. He turned to look at the baller and squinted against the water spray. 

“Yes, Jude,” said Zero with a twitch of his lips. “Really. I think it’s admirable, but it was wasted on Oscar. He didn’t deserve it.” Zero kissed Jude’s shoulder, and Jude’s chest suddenly felt tight. “He didn’t deserve you.” 

“I...” Jude searched for the right words. He was overwhelmed with Zero’s praise, his kindness, his physical proximity...it was enough to make Jude’s head spin. Without planning to, he said the only thing he could think of. The one thing that was ever-present on his mind. “I love you.” 

Zero stiffened. Abruptly, the air between them was unbearable, too hot and too thick with steam. Jude held his breath, waiting for the baller to say _something. Anything_. 

...

“...your shoulders,” Jude corrected lamely. “I love your shoulders.” He turned around to face Zero and ran his hands along the athlete’s biceps. 

“What?” Zero asked, confused. Jude ignored the question. He needed to distract Zero and fast. Taking a page from the baller’s own handbook, Jude cupped the man’s face and leaned in to kiss him fiercely. Zero kissed him back, but when Jude reached down to touch Zero’s cock, he broke away. 

“Jude —”

“Shhh,” whispered Jude and captured Zero’s protests with another kiss. Moaning, Jude explored the baller’s mouth with his tongue, then kissed his way down Zero’s neck, pecks, and happy trail. Zero inhaled sharply. He ran his fingers through Jude’s hair, subconsciously guiding his attention South.

“I thought you said —” the baller started, his voice rough with arousal. 

“Don’t talk,” said Jude. Sinking to his knees, Jude took Zero’s cock into his mouth and did his best to effectively render the man speechless. 

...

Jude sat at the dining room table, looking at his phone with a feeling of disappointment in the pit of his stomach. Zero had sent a text saying he was going to crash at his own place after practice. Something about being tired and having a press conference early the next day. Jude knew the baller was telling the truth, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness after spending another day by himself. 

Having won game four against the Celtics, the Devils were busier than ever. The score was two to two, and it was anyone’s game now. The media ate it up. Fanned the drama. Every injury, trick shot, and locker room jab was publicized and played on repeat. The pressure of winning was enough to raise Jude’s RHR by ten beats per minute. He didn’t know how Zero wasn’t completely overwhelmed by the whole thing. 

Zero was in the zone, on and off the court. Between games, he stuck to a tight routine. It involved waking up at the crack of dawn, going for a run, followed by practice, weight training, stretching, PT, more ball time, until he was finally exhausted and ready to call it a day. By the time he came home, Jude would wait for him with a protein shake and a list of agent-client things they had to discuss. 

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to talk about. Since the scandal, Jude was hard pressed to find sponsors. Sure, some companies were interested in Zero, but they were offering pennies compared to the baller’s regular rate. Jude expected for things to improve now that the Devil’s were in the Final and doing well, but corporations were hesitant to have Zero represent them. His image was still associated with the words liar, cheater, and john. 

Jude sighed and wondered if he was failing as Zero’s agent. Hell, maybe he was failing as Zero’s significant other as well. A few days ago, Jude noticed that the butterflies in the pit of his stomach were gone. He and Zero were stuck in a rut. Always in Jude’s apartment. Always watching TV or doing stuff around the house. The sex was great. The company was great too, but shouldn’t they be doing something to keep the spark alive? The last thing Jude wanted was for Zero to become bored and leave him for someone else. 

Jude tried to talk about it with Lionel, but all she suggested was that they try using flavored lube. Come to think of it, she was acting strange lately. For one, she started drinking vodka like it was water again. And two, she was being moody and evasive about her plans for the future. Jude could tell she was up to something but she wasn’t ready to confide in him yet. When he told her about Oscar, her kohl-lined eyes narrowed and glinted with anger. 

“I’m done trying to win his approval,” Jude finished, staring at the bottom of his glass. 

“Good,” said Lionel decidedly. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“What?” Jude asked, confused by her strong reaction. “Why?” Lionel waved her hand dismissively. 

“I’ll explain everything when the time’s right. Now,” she said, looking at Jude with a knowing smile. “You know, as much as I love talking about that weasel — I’m sorry,” she corrected when Jude gave her a disapproving look, “your ‘father’,” she drawled with heavy sarcasm. “I’d rather circle back to your boy trouble.” Jude huffed. 

“I told you,” He said, exasperated. “I don’t think flavored lube is the answer.” 

“Oh Jude,” she said, reaching to pat his cheek. “You’re so sweet. And naive.” Jude brushed her off and wondered, not for the first time, if two vodka martinis weren’t two too many. 

“Lionel, I’m serious.” 

“Okay,” she said, her hands up in surrender. “What’s the problem again? I stopped listening after you said ‘best sex of my life, but I’m not happy, blah blah blah...’” Jude sighed. 

“It’s not that I’m _not_ happy, it’s just that...well, he wants our relationship to remain a secret indefinitely.” Jude toyed with the tumbler in his hands, feeling uncomfortable voicing his insecurities out loud. “We’re always sneaking around. No dates. No PDA...”

“And?”

“And, well,” Jude continued despite himself. “I’m worried that he’ll grow bored. That he’ll leave me. And maybe,” he paused, fighting the urge to downplay what he was about to say next. “Maybe I want something more. Maybe I want a normal relationship. Maybe I’m tired of being someone’s dirty little secret.” 

“Sounds like he’s in the closet,” said Lionel with a shrug, signaling for another drink. “You’re ready to get out and see the living room for a change, but he’s cozied up, in it for the long haul.” 

“I guess,” Jude admitted. “But what am I supposed to do? If he’s not ready, I can’t push him out of the closet, can I?”

“No,” said Lionel, accepting the third martini with a wink. The bartender smiled before walking away, and Lionel’s eyes followed him across the room with interest. Jude cleared his throat. “No,” she repeated, as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “You’re right. You can’t push him out of the closet. But you _can_ walk out and see if he’ll follow.” She took a sip with a meaningful look at Jude. 

“And if he doesn’t?” Jude asked, shaking his head.

“Then he doesn’t,” she said with another shrug. Her eyes found the bartender again. “Life’s too short, Jude. If you want something, you have to woman-up and go after it.” She finished the drink and fussed with her emerald blouse, showing more cleavage than was altogether prudent. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said standing up, her eyes sparkling. “I’m willing to bet my Gucci heels — limited edition, mind you — that that bartender has a taste for green apple.” 

...

At first, Jude had ignored Lionel’s advice. It was too risky. Too confrontational. But after a while, Jude grew restless with the same old same old. He wanted to get out of the apartment. He wanted for Zero to take him out on a real date, hold hands, walk along the Pier...was that too much to ask? 

When Jude finally found the courage to bring it up, Zero had laughed it off. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. Jude waited a couple of days before bringing it up again. This time, the baller rolled his eyes and changed the subject. The next day, however, Jude came home to a hundred lit candles, a lobster dinner, and rose petals strewn across the floor leading to the bedroom.

“What do you think?” Asked Zero, coming closer to kiss Jude in greeting. The baller was dressed in an aubergine shirt and nice slacks. His hair was gelled to perfection. He’d obviously made an effort to look good for the occasion. “It’s romantic, right?” He looked at Jude, a hopeful expression on his face. Jude bit his bottom lip. They both knew it wasn’t what he wanted, but he didn’t have the heart to say otherwise. 

“Yeah,” he said after a while, and Zero’s expression softened to that of relief. Jude forced himself to smile. “It’s...great,” he finished, his voice so convincing, that he’d almost fooled himself.

...

Afterwards, they declared an unspoken, fragile truce. It lasted for a few days. Zero went out of his way to be more romantic. He ordered expensive takeout, bought Jude another beautiful silk tie, and encouraged for them to be more adventurous in the bedroom. In return, Jude told himself to be content with what they had. That it was enough — and it _was_ enough, for a while at least. Until it wasn’t again.

The Devil’s won their fifth game against Boston, and Zero was on cloud nine. After the game, Jude waited for the baller in the parking lot. He smiled broadly when he saw Zero approach with a skip to his step. 

“You were amazing,” said Jude. 

“I know,” Zero replied, grinning. “Did you see Derek miss at the last second? Then bam! I get to the board just in time for a rebound. And the crowd goes wild!” Zero shouted, using his hands like a megaphone. Jude laughed, shaking his head. 

“We should celebrate,” he suggested, and Zero’s eyes darkened. He stepped closer, invading Jude’s personal space. 

“What did you have in mind?” He asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “The tie again? Or should we break the bank and buy a pair of handcuffs?” Jude huffed. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of dinner and drinks. You know, somewhere nice.” Zero’s face fell and he stepped back. 

“Not tonight.”

“Why not?” Asked Jude, watching Zero walk to the passenger side of the Porsche. He got inside, buckled his seatbelt, and looked at Jude expectedly. “Zero, why not?” Jude repeated, his voice insistent. The baller sighed. 

“Get in the car, Jude.” He said, sounding tired. Jude crossed his arms over his chest.

“Not until you tell me why not,” Jude said, holding his ground. “Why can’t we be seen in public together? I’m your agent. You’re my client. There’s nothing wrong with going out once in a while!” He nearly shouted. Zero’s jaw clenched, and he looked away in frustration. 

“It’s like we’re stuck on repeat,” he finally said in a low voice. “How many times do we have to have the same conversation?” Zero looked at Jude, his eyes blazing. “We’re not _together_, Jude.” He said coldly. “If you want someone to wine and dine you, then go find a real boyfriend. I’m out.” Zero got out the car and slammed the door. Shocked, Jude watched the baller walk away, wondering what the fuck just happened. 

...

They didn’t see each other for days. Alone again, Jude reverted to his life before Zero. He worked long hours, ate microwave dinners, and spent the majority of his evenings staring at the TV, willing for the digital clock to read 10:00 pm so he could go to sleep without admitting that he was depressed and had no life. 

Lying in bed, Jude wondered if he and Zero were truly over. He waited for the familiar feelings of anxiety and stomach-clenching dread to rise to the surface. Such feelings were usually elicited whenever something triggered his fear of abandonment. To Jude’s surprise, however, he didn’t feel anything at all. He realized that with each fight, Jude had mentally prepared himself for their inevitable breakup, until he was practically numb to the idea of Zero leaving him for good. 

Jude tried to move on. After game five, when Zero didn’t call or text, Jude forced himself to go through his apartment and put the baller’s belongings into a box. There wasn’t much. A toothbrush. A paperback. A Chef’s knife — since the one Jude owned was apparently so dull, Zero had deemed it useless. 

Jude looked around the place, certain that there had to be more of the baller’s stuff _somewhere_. It was pathetic, he thought angrily. They had lived together for weeks. The man had taken over every aspect of Jude’s life, and all he had to show for it were these three miserly items? They looked small and insignificant, dwarfed by the large cardboard box Jude was so sure he could fill just a few moments ago. 

Something red caught his eye. Jude glanced up at the Devil’s jersey hanging on the living room wall, just above his fireplace mantle. Zero’s name and number on it front and center. He smiled, despite himself, remembering the day Zero had given it to him way back when. 

“What’s this?” Asked Jude. 

“Open it,” said the baller, shoving the gift into Jude’s arms. It was wrapped neatly in brown paper, but by it’s shape and weight, Jude guessed it to be a piece of art. 

“Kind of random,” said Jude with a huff. They were in the middle of the Arena parking lot, standing next to Zero’s brand new Porsche — something Jude had privately admired from afar, wondering when he could afford to upgrade his own Honda Civic. Then he shook his head, knowing that he would never look half as cool as Zero did driving a sport’s car. 

Jude didn’t know the baller very well, but he wasn’t blind to man’s obvious charm and good looks. Hell, he had half the team won over already, and he’d just moved to L.A. a week ago. They hadn’t even had a press conference to officially announce his transfer. Now, the 6’2” athlete stood in front of Jude, looking effortlessly cool in his ripped jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket. The baller leaned in, encouraging Jude to hurry up and open the gift, but the man’s proximity only made Jude slower and clumsier than before. 

Finally, he tore the paper enough to see what was inside. Jude stared at the red Devil’s jersey with Zero’s number on the back. The baller grinned. 

“Get it?” he asked, leaning in too close for comfort. 

“Not really,” said Jude. He didn’t know what to think. He was about to thank the baller anyway, when Zero laughed.

“Oh, come on, Jude!” He said, slapping Jude’s arm. “You don’t remember? We were sitting at the restaurant in Ohio, and I asked you what you did for fun in L.A., and you said nothing much because you were too busy trying to find furniture for your apartment...” He looked at Jude expectantly.

“Ok...” Jude said, still confused. 

“Then I said, really? How’s that going? And you said fine. That you’d bought a used couch. Red. And you were looking for some artwork, but everything in the stores reminded you of something you’d see in a hotel and not in a home...you really don’t remember, do you?” When Jude shook his head, Zero looked away, seemingly embarrassed. He scratched the nape of his neck.

“I can’t believe that you _ do_,” said Jude with another huff. “It’s so mundane. I thought I was boring you to tears.”

“I like boring,” said Zero a little too quickly, then he laughed, embarrassed again. “Fuck, I didn’t mean that. I mean...you’re a hard guy to forget.” 

They stood together in awkward silence until Jude said something sarcastic and self-deprecating in return, and the two fell into easy banter, the moment’s tension gone. At the time, Jude didn’t think anything of it. Sure, it was a little strange, but he figured Zero was just trying to be friendly, nothing more. How was Jude supposed to know that he was gay and that he and Zero would start a romantic relationship in the future?

Now, the jersey hung on the wall, a constant reminder of the man no longer in his life. Jude couldn’t bring himself to take it down. But how can he move on? Jude wondered, looking at Zero’s gift, the first of many. It was impossible when his job centered around the baller, and when he wasn’t approving ad campaigns featuring Zero’s handsome, smirking face, he was busy talking the man up to potential sponsors. It was too hard. 

...

The next day was shitty from start to finish. His morning shower was interrupted by a knock at the front door. Wondering if it was Zero, Jude was surprised to see a sturdy, middle aged man dressed in a no-nonsense suit instead. He identified himself as Detective Ray Harris and wanted to know about Jude’s whereabouts on the night of Olivia’s murder. Panicking, Jude made up a lame alibi — something about sneaking into the Arena — but it only made the detective more suspicious. Before he could ask any more questions, Jude steered the man towards the front door, explaining that he was late for work and now really wasn’t a good time. 

Of course, he couldn’t focus on work after that, not that there was much work to focus on. One of his clients — an actress of mediocre caliber — had a movie premier soon, and Jude was finalizing her schedule for the event. Another client — an up and coming comedian — had an interview on The Tonight Show, and Jude was checking the legal documents Jimmy Fallon’s team had emailed that afternoon. With his nerves fried, Jude was grateful for the simple administrative tasks. 

After work, Jude stopped by a Panda Express for takeout before heading home. Game six was about to air any minute, and he needed greasy comfort food to settle his nerves. He kicked off his shoes, tossed his keys, and went straight for the TV remote. He’d missed the pre-game stuff, but he didn’t need a recap to know the stakes. It was 3:2 with the Devil’s advantage. If they won tonight’s game, they’d win the Final. 

Jude swallowed hard. He should be there to support Zero, if not as his boyfriend, then as his agent, but it was too late to fly to Boston now. When the announcer called Zero’s name, Jude’s heart rate quickened. Seeing that stupid, bleach blond head and trademark smirk, Jude realized how much he’d missed the man. It hit him like a semi-truck. He clutched his chest, feeling the pain like a physical blow. “Get a grip,” he said through gritted teeth and tried to focus on the game instead of his own misery. 

They were tied into fourth quarter. It was a close game. Then Zero missed a critical shot. Derek missed another, and somehow, it all went downhill from there. Jude couldn’t look away, baffled by the turn of events. He watched as the Devil’s made a desperate, last-ditch attempt to save the game, but it was sloppy, uncoordinated, and in the end, simply not good enough. They lost.

Seeing Zero walk off the court, shoulders slumped in defeat, made the pain in Jude’s chest intensify. He should text, call,_ do something._ Jude stopped himself from dialing the baller’s number. His fingers hovered over the keypad, ready for the go ahead, but Jude didn’t budge. They were over. No point in watering a dead plant. He decided to send a quick, professional text instead. 

J: “Sorry about tonight’s game. Better luck next time.” 

Jude hated the text the moment he’d hit send. It sounded harsh, even under their current circumstance. He tossed the phone aside. _Fuck it._ He thought, ready to be done with the day. Lying in bed, he listened for the phone to chime again, waiting for a reply despite telling himself he didn’t care. The phone chimed an hour later, illuminating the living room walls with Zero’s answering text, but by then, Jude was fast asleep. 

Z: “We need to talk.” 

...

Jude woke up to the sound of glass breaking. Sitting up, he listened attentively. Someone was in his apartment. He could hear them rummaging around in the kitchen, shuffling through broken glass, and scraping something against the linoleum tiles. Jude reached under the bed for a baseball bat and tiptoed across his bedroom floor. 

Adrenaline rising, he rounded the corner and paused just outside the kitchen doorway. Someone was definitely there. He could hear their heavy breathing.

“Ahh!” Jude yelled, sprinting through the doorway and raising the bat overhead. 

“What the fuck?!” The intruder yelled in return. 

“Zero?” Jude asked, panting. 

“No,” the baller said sarcastically, holding a dustpan to his chest. “It’s Jesus fucking Christ. Who else would it be?” Jude lowered the bat.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking around. Zero was kneeling on the kitchen floor, a brush in one hand and a dustpan in the other, surrounded by broken glass. 

“What does it look like?” The baller said dryly. He returned to sweeping the floor without offering another explanation. Jude’s shoulders relaxed, and he blew out long-suffering sigh. He decided to let Zero finish his task without asking any more questions and busied himself with looking for a sharps container in the meantime. He found an empty cereal box and held it out when the dustpan was full. 

“Thanks,” the baller said sheepishly, tipping the pan to empty the glass. Jude nodded and set the box aside. “I was thirsty,” Zero said after a while. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. “I think I’m still a little drunk.”

“You’re more than a little drunk,” said Jude as a matter of fact. “And you stink of perfume.”

“Fucking jersey chasers,” mumbled Zero. “I didn’t touch them, Jude. I swear.” Jude shrugged and rose to his feet. 

“It’s not like we’re exclusive,” he said with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Or even together. What are you doing here, Zero? I thought you said we were done?” Zero groaned in exasperation and used the kitchen counter to pull himself up and off of the floor. 

“I said ‘I’m out’,” he corrected, his voice slurring a little. “Figures you’d take it the wrong way.” Jude huffed in disbelief. 

“What was I supposed to think?” He asked angrily. “And you could have called. Texted. I haven’t heard from you in days!” Zero winced at Jude’s raised voice. He was clearly suffering from a wicked hangover. If Jude wasn’t so upset, he might have paused to wonder why the baller had gotten drunk in the first place. Zero had a beer on occasion, sure, but getting drunk was out of character, even after a bad loss. 

“You’re mad,” Zero observed. He came closer to Jude.

“Don’t,” warned Jude. He took a step back, dodging Zero’s advances. “Don’t do that. We’re done. You said —” His voice hitched, and this time, he didn’t fight the embrace. Zero’s arms wrapped around Jude, holding him tight. Jude drew in a shaky breath, smelling the baller’s familiar scent with a mix of alcohol and a heady dose of women’s perfume. Jude wrinkled his nose, hating the smell of vanilla, finding it sickly sweet. 

“I’m sorry,” the baller said in a low voice. He pulled Jude closer yet. His lips found the delicate skin just under Jude’s ear and pressed a kiss. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Jude’s shoulders began to shake. He couldn’t help it. He buried his face into Zero’s chest, not wanting the baller to see him cry. If Zero noticed, he didn’t say anything, but Jude knew that Zero saw and heard much more than he let on. If he chose to play dumb, it was on purpose, and likely to his advantage somehow. 

“I’ve missed you,” Jude whispered brokenly, and Zero’s grip tightened. He stroked Jude’s back in soothing circles, like Jude was some kind of skittish foal. 

“I’ve missed you too,” Zero said gently. 

“Don’t leave,” begged Jude, despite himself.

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

...

Zero was true to his word. From that day forward, he stayed at Jude’s apartment every night. He didn’t comment about the box, just took out the toothbrush and gave it a good rinse before brushing his teeth the next morning. Afterwards, however, Jude noticed a few more of the baller’s things around the bathroom. Zero’s shampoo and conditioner stood on the shower rack next to Jude’s. His sunscreen, shaving kit, and cologne cluttered the counter along the sink. Vacuuming, Jude was surprised to find a power cord for Zero’s phone and a couple more books by the baller’s side of the bed. The majority of his stuff was still in the duffle bag, but Jude thought it was progress nonetheless. 

In the kitchen, the fridge and cupboards were full of healthy food again, the dishes sparkled, and the floor tiles shone. Jude looked around ruefully, shocked at how much Zero was able to accomplish in just a few days. It was too much, thought Jude. Zero was working hard on the court only to come home and work some more. He was supposed to take it easy and focus on recovery, not play Jude’s housemaid. 

Jude felt guilty. In truth, he wasn’t ready to let Zero back into his life. Not like before, anyway. He was still angry and hurt and no amount of home-cooked meals, while delicious, were going to convince him to be so vulnerable again. He kept Zero at an arm’s length, giving the man a taste of his own medicine, and Zero sensed it. Of course he did. He didn’t say anything outright, but his actions spoke louder than words. If Jude was willing to trust him again, Zero was willing to let a few of his walls down in return. 

Last night, they were getting ready for bed. Neither one was in the mood for sex. Zero was exhausted, and Jude was too preoccupied with thoughts of the murder investigation to think about anything else. Zero pulled back the covers and got in with a book at the ready. He was in the middle of reading _ Lonesome Dove_ by Larry McMurtry. Jude smiled, loving Zero’s passion for Westerns. It was second only to basketball. Just the other day, when asked about losing game six, the baller replied with a shrug. “Every trail has some puddles,” he said in a Western twang. The ISN reporter looked confused and smiled politely, but Jude sniggered from the sidelines. 

“Zero,” Jude asked now.

“Hmm?” 

“Why do you like Westerns so much?”

“Dunno,” he said absently, flipping to the next page. 

“Come on,” Jude pressed. “There has to be a reason. Did you grow up on a farm or something?” They were in dangerous territory, talking about Zero’s past again, but Jude was determined to test the man’s resolve. If they were going to be together, he needed to know that Zero was willing to open up. Just a little tid-bit. That’s all Jude wanted to hear. 

By the set of Zero’s jaw, Jude could tell the baller had stopped reading. He waited for a brush-off, or worse, a fight. Instead, Zero put the book down with a heavy sigh and toyed with the cover. 

“No, Jude,” he said after a moment of silence. “I didn’t grow up on a farm. I grew up on a shit-hole of a foster home with six other kids vying for attention. I didn’t see a horse in real life until the County Fair in tenth grade. And the closest we came to having cattle was getting to eat a dollar menu burger on our birthdays.” He laughed without humor. “As to why I like Westerns,” he said with a challenging look in Jude’s direction, “well, I bet if you had to share a room with three other kids, you’d dream of wide open spaces too.” 

Stunned, Jude didn’t know what to say. 

“Happy?” Zero asked, a bite in his voice. 

“Yeah,” said Jude, nodding. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Jude,” the baller said with a groan. “Just — stop pushing so hard. I’ve told you everything you need to know. My past is nothing special. It sucked. I got out. End of conversation.” Zero tossed the book to the floor. “Goodnight,” he said shortly, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp. 

“Night,” Jude parroted. He stared at the baller’s back, unable to get the mental image of young Zero out of his head. He imagined a blond boy, tan from playing basketball all summer long, with scuffed knees and lanky limbs, walking through the cramped, chaotic house, looking for a quiet corner to read. Jude turned off the lamp on his side of the bed. Settling down, his arms reached for Zero’s waist and pulled the man closer until they were practically spooning. They didn’t cuddle as a rule, but Jude hoped that tonight Zero would make an exception. Pressing closer still, Jude had the overwhelming need to hold on and never let go. 

...

Jude was stressed. With game seven looming on the horizon, he had more meetings with potential sponsors than ever before, none of which proved productive. The reps huffed and puffed, praising Zero for leading the Devil’s so close to a championship, but when it came to talking business, they used every stalling tactic in the book. “We love Zero’s look,” one said with a flamboyant wave of his hand. “But we’re not sure Burberry is ready for a male athlete of his caliber.” Another rep — a no-nonsense woman in her thirties — ended their meeting by saying, “Let me be frank, Mr. Kinkaid. While our company appreciates your client’s talents on the court, we’re not sure Zero’s image is family friendly enough for the customers that frequent our stores. You understand.” 

Jude understood alright. He understood that he was going to have to go home and give Zero the bad news. Again. For once, he wished that the baller wasn’t at the apartment to greet him. As it happened, Zero was eager to hear about business the moment Jude walked through the door. 

“Did you close any of those endorsement deals?” He asked through a mouthful of cereal. “I mean, negotiations are taking forever.” Jude dropped his suitcase on the floor, annoyed that Zero brought up the one thing he wanted to avoid. 

“You’re still in PR jail,” he said tightly. “It’s going to take more than the possibility of a championship to push the boulder up the hill. It’s going to take more than a ring.” Jude loosened his tie. He looked at the Zero, mouth pressed into a thin line, and sighed. “If you want your life back, you need MVP.” Zero swallowed with an audible gulp. He backed up, giving Jude some space. 

“You’re wound up tight,” he said, his voice cautious. “Even for you. Something happen today?” Jude was about to reply when there was a knock at the front door. He looked up at Zero, silently asking if the baller was expecting anyone — maybe he’d ordered takeout — but Zero shook his head. Frowning, Jude opened the door and found a mail courier on the other side. The uniformed man handed Jude an envelope and had him sign for its delivery. Jude thanked the man and walked back into the room, opening the letter in front of Zero. 

“Is this a joke?” He wondered out loud. 

“What is it?” Zero asked, eating again. 

“A wedding invitation,” Jude explained, reading the card for the second time. It didn’t make any sense. Zero hummed in approval, as if to say ‘how nice’, but Jude looked up with a stricken expression. “It’s from Lionel and Oscar.” He glanced at the yellow sticky note attached to the invitation. Written in Lionel’s handwriting, it read, “You’re my man of honor. Look sharp.” 

...

The Kinkaid Residence towered above them in all of its glory. The lawn was freshly trimmed. The trees were adorned in glittering lights. A string quartet played somewhere in the background. Men and women, dressed in their Sunday-best, walked around Jude and towards the reception area. He could hear their curious murmurs — each one having received the same wedding invitation with less than a day’s notice. Zero stood by his side, looking handsome in gray trousers and a white suit jacket. Jude wanted to appreciate the view, but his eyes were glued to the mansion just a few steps away. 

Lionel didn’t answer any of his texts. At first, he thought it was a practical joke — although whose, he didn’t know — but now, seeing the fifty-some guests milling on the mansion grounds, Jude wasn’t so sure. What was she thinking? He wondered. How could she marry the man who habitually lied, gambled, and was most likely responsible for Olivia’s murder? Not to mention the man who had rejected Jude for no other reason than being gay? Was she really that desperate? 

“Ready?” asked Zero. 

“No,” Jude answered gloomily, but his feet shuffled forward anyway. “The last time I was here, I was being disowned.” 

“Well, now you’re here as Lionel’s special guest,” Zero said with a reassuring smile. 

“Yeah, right,” Jude said sarcastically. “So special, I haven’t even spoken to her yet.” They rounded a manicured hedge and walked through the garden’s entryway. A hostess greeted them with a bright, Hollywood smile. 

“Welcome,” she said, ignoring Jude and looking at Zero all googly-eyed. “I’m a _big_ fan.” At first, Jude wasn’t bothered. He was used to Zero having fangirls. But then the baller stepped forward and started flirting with the woman in return. 

“I’m a big fan of yours too,” he said, scanning her from head to toe. He oozed sexual confidence and charm, and the combination made Jude grit his teeth in annoyance. 

“Can I take your coat?” She asked Zero breathily. 

“It’s a suit,” Jude pointed out. The words ‘you dumb bimbo’ were on the tip of his tongue, but he forced himself to be polite. 

“Or...anything else,” she suggested, smiling and batting her eyelashes at Zero like Jude didn’t exist. Could she _be_ more obvious? Jude wondered. All of a sudden, he was sick of watching Zero flirt with some wannabe actress when he refused to so much as stand too close to Jude in public. Without thinking, he blurted out,

“He has crabs,” and stalked off to find the bride-to-be before anyone could say anything else. Not his proudest moment, he had to admit, but he was at his wit’s end with Zero pretending like they weren’t together. 

Lionel wasn’t around. After a brief search — and after catching a glimpse of Oscar — Jude gave up and made a beeline for the bar. He could see Zero still talking to the hostess out of the corner of his eye. “Asshole,” he muttered and ordered a whisky neat. 

A few minutes later, the music changed and a minister made his way to the front of the outdoor wedding chapel. Everyone took their cue to find a seat. Jude looked around, wondering, for the tenth time, where the hell was Lionel and whether or not he can get a word in before she made the biggest mistake of her life. 

When the wedding march began to play, Lionel emerged from the house dressed all in black. Her gown, while elegant, was more appropriate for a funeral than a wedding. She glided along the walkway like a queen on her coronation day. Jude met her at the start of the aisle and took her arm in his. 

“This is messed up, you realize that, right?” He whispered. Lionel smiled, happy to see him, and plucked a rose from her bouquet to tuck into his breast pocket. “The fact that this is the first conversation we’re having about this is a sign of how truly messed up this is. What the hell are you thinking?” He searched her face for an explanation, but she was determined to keep up appearances. She pressed on, eyes fixed on Oscar waiting for them on the other end.

“This is an awfully short aisle,” she said through her teeth, a smile plastered firmly in place. Jude was about to argue, but of course, she was right. A few more steps, and they were at the arbor with the minister and Oscar waiting for them with tight smiles of their own. Resigned, Jude stood by Lionel’s right, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. 

“You have a beautiful bride,” the minister commended. Oscar only sneered. 

“Sometimes, when someone asks you to marry them,” he said, his voice neutral but with an undertone of hostility, “you just can’t say no.”

“You look dapper too,” Lionel offered, seemingly oblivious to his warning. “I’m sorry about not signing the prenup. My pen just ran out of ink.” 

“Of course,” Oscar chuckled darkly. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“I do,” she answered, playing the role of a woman in love. Her performance however, was hardly Oscar-worthy. 

...

Jude stared out the car window, watching the trees as they drove past. They reminded him of home, of the pine trees in his mom’s backyard, and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to see her again and leave this city behind. He was sick of L.A. Sick of the smog, the hustle, the ever-present image of people living their best life. It was all a charade, and he just witnessed the biggest charade of all. 

“What’s on your mind?” Zero asked from the driver’s seat. Jude looked down, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat.

“Nothing,” he answered and didn’t volunteer more. They continued to drive in silence until Zero tried again.

“Are you mad?” He asked, and Jude huffed. How many times had Zero asked him that? Jude shook his head, feeling bitter. The fact that he’d lost count was probably a bad sign. 

“Why would I be mad?” He asked, playing dumb even thought he knew full-well Zero was talking about the hostess. The one who practically jumped into his boyfriend’s lap in the middle of a wedding. Oh wait. That’s right. Zero wasn’t his boyfriend, was he?

“Look,” said the baller on an exhale. “It didn’t mean anything. I have a certain reputation to uphold. People expect that sort of thing...” 

“Did I say anything?” Jude challenged. 

“No, but —” Zero sighed. “Never mind.” Jude held his tongue. Game seven was tomorrow. The last thing Zero needed was more relationship drama. It didn’t matter what Jude was feeling, he told himself. Right now, they had to focus on winning the Final. Then, and only then, can Jude start being honest with the baller and with himself. 

“It’s all good,” he said with a casualness he didn’t feel. He looked out the window again, but this time, instead of pining after home, he was busy plotting an ultimatum. 

...

The energy inside the Devil’s Arena was tense. Well into the fourth quarter, the Devils were barely ahead with 101 to 100. Everything was on the line, and both teams were fighting tooth and nail for the title. Just before halftime, Zero had gotten elbowed in the face and got a bloody nose for his trouble. He was back on the court now, eyes on the prize, not only for the championship, but for the most valuable player award as well. 

Boston scored a three, and the Devil fans let out a collective groan. With time running out, their odds didn’t look good. Derek got possession of the ball. He dribbled down the court. Six seconds on the clock. He faked a pass to Zero and tossed the ball to Terrance instead. It was an impossible shot. One in a million. The baller went for it anyway. Twisting and dodging two of Boston’s most ruthless defenders, he tossed the ball just in time to hear the buzzer sound. By some miracle, it went in. 

The crowd exploded with cheer. The game was going into overtime. There was still a chance after all. They quieted when Terrance didn’t get up. Jude could hear the baller cry out in pain, the sound so excruciating, it sent a shiver down his spine. Something was sticking out of the man’s leg, and with sickening horror, Jude realized that that something was bone. 

“Medic!” Derek shouted, kneeling by his friend’s side. A small crowd began to gather around Terrance. Their faces grim. Jelena pushed through the lot of them. Reaching Terrance, she knelt by his side, and for a cold, calculating woman, Jude was surprised to see her on the verge of tears. That’s love, thought Jude with uncomfortable clarity. What if that was Zero and not Terrance, lying on the hardwood floor, writhing in pain? Would Jude be allowed to run to his side like Jelena? 

His leg in a splint, the medics lifted Terrance onto a gurney. Jude watched them wheel the baller away, knowing the answer to his question. It cemented his resolve. He knew what he had to do, but the game wasn’t over yet. 

Taking advantage of Terrance’s injury, Boston got ahead by another three points. Zero scored on a layup, bringing them up to 105, but it was still not enough to guarantee a win. There was only seven seconds left, and Boston had possession of the ball. Suddenly, Derek blocked a pass. He dribbled to the top of the key, calling the shots. 

“I’m open! I’m open!” Zero shouted from the corner of the court. Derek ignored him. In a flash, he ran up, going for the win himself. He shot the ball deliberately too high. It bounced off the backboard, and in one, fluid motion, the Roman Emperor leapt up and sunk the ball through with a slam dunk. 

The Jumbotron flashed a score of 107 to 106. The buzzer sounded.

“Derek wins for the Devil’s!” The announcer shouted. “The Devil’s win the championship! Los Angeles has the title and the home crowd is going crazy!” Jude didn’t hear the rest. He watched the players leap for joy and celebrate with their loved ones. Sloan ran up to Pete, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Even Derek, while no longer with Ahsha, had his mother there to congratulate him. Jude didn’t dare move. He watched Zero shake hands and pat his teammates on the back, but his smile was fake and his applause half hearted. They won the championship, sure, but in those last, critical seconds of the game, he lost his chance at MVP.

...

After waiting for the crowds to thin, Jude made his way down to the main hall. He paused just outside, searching for the familiar blond head in a sea of players and reporters. To his right, he could hear Pete’s interview with SportsCenter coming through loud and clear. “He’s the MVP,” the coach said enthusiastically into a mic. “I mean, not just today, but in the entire season! Yeah, it’s a team effort,” he admitted. “But sometimes you have superstars. And Derek Roman? He’s a superstar.” 

Jude grimaced and continued his search, finally spotting the baller a few feet away. He was being interviewed too, only Zero’s answers weren’t as enthusiastic as Pete’s. Zero glanced up. When his eyes met Jude’s, his mouth twisted into a half smile. The female reporter asked another question, and Zero turned back to reply, but not before Jude caught the unmistakable look of disappointment on the man’s face.

A noise got Jude’s attention. He looked away, surprised to see Detective Ray Harris walking towards them. A handful of uniformed cops were on his tail. Oscar and Lionel — Jude still couldn’t get used to the odd pairing — greeted him first. 

“Are you making an arrest?” Oscar asked, and the detective nodded. 

“Yes we are,” he said soberly, pausing for effect. “Oscar Kinkade, you are under arrest for the murder of Mia Sertner.” Shocked, Jude watched a police officer cuff Oscar’s hands behind his back. Mia? Thought Jude, confused. The Devil Girl who went missing all those months ago? What about Olivia? 

“You have no idea what you’ve done!” He heard his father shout. He glanced up in time to see Oscar lunge at Sloan, only to be pulled back by several of the cops nearby. They dragged him away like a perp. Humiliated, Oscar looked around to see the players and Devil associates — not to mention the media — all watching him with varying degrees of surprise and disgust. 

“I warned you about hiring her,” Jelena told him dispassionately. Oscar didn’t acknowledge Jelena, however. He looked up at Jude instead, a bewildered expression on his face. After his initial shock, Jude felt nothing but numb. He gave his father a knowing look, finding it ironic that had Oscar not pushed Jude away, Jude would have told him about Sloan a long time ago. 

“I’ll call your lawyer,” Lionel piped in. “Don’t worry.” Her voice was honey-sweet. She waited until her newly-wed husband got carted off into a squad car. Then she turned to Jude and answered his questioning look with a wink. “While Oscar rots in jail,” she said with a shameless, victorious smile, “guess who’s the new co-owner and proxy for the Devil’s?” 

...

The Arena was practically empty by the time Jude walked into the Devil’s locker room. He had waited for Zero for an hour, but when the baller didn’t show, Jude went looking for him instead. He found Zero sitting on a bench, shoulders slumped, head hanging down in defeat. Jude’s heart ached at the sight, but he knew what he had to do. 

“Congratulations,” he said, walking up to the man. “Ring number two.” Zero sighed. 

“I didn’t come here to be some schmuck on a team,” he said, frustrated. “I came here to be the star. That’s what you promised me. Instead,” he looked down again. “I lost everything.” Jude shook his head. 

“You can’t blame me for that,” he said, refusing to participate in the baller’s pity party. “You were the one who got caught with your pants down, on more than one occasion.” Zero scoffed.

“Are you still angry about that girl at the wedding?” He asked, squinting up at Jude in disbelief. 

“What makes you think that?” Jude asked with a huff. Zero got up, gesturing wildly. 

“I lied to everyone _but_ you,” he said, coming towards Jude. “I _told_ you I don’t do relationships.” 

“No,” challenged Jude. He walked forward to meet the baller half way, gathering courage with every step. “You don’t do relationships with guys.” Zero looked away. “I do,” continued Jude. “You know how I know? Because I want one. With you.” He stopped to search the baller’s face, looking for understanding. He found nothing but stubborn pride. “After the game, all I wanted to do was kiss you. And what would you have done?” Jude asked, brows raised. “You would have freaked. Not because people would think you’re gay, or bi, or... whatever you are. But because they would’ve seen an ounce of anything real from you.” Jude thought of Zero’s many masks. The godly man. The womanizer. The tough baller. He shook his head again. “You’re so full of crap. One disguise after another. You’re buried so deep in there, you don’t even know yourself.” Zero scoffed again. 

“You just figured out you’re gay or whatever —” he answered, indignant. 

“Not or whatever,” Jude corrected. 

“— and you’re coming down on _me_?” Jude looked down. The muscles in his jaw twitched. After all, Zero made a good point. Jude had spent the majority of his adult life not being true to himself. Who was he to criticize the baller for playing a role? Hadn’t he done the same thing? The role of the perfect son. The patsy. The yes man. Jude had played them all to perfection. Until now. 

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He looked up at Zero again. “I’m mad,” he finally admitted. “Mad at myself. Mad at this _situation_. Mad that I need something from you. Mad that I can’t get it!” He paused, voice breaking. “Most of all? I’m mad that there’s nothing I can do about any of it.” With a final look at Zero, Jude turned on his heels and began to walk away. 

“Where are you going?” The baller ran up and blocked the exit with outstretched arms. He looked at Jude, desperately searching for something else to say, finally blurting out the first excuse that popped into his head. “You’re my agent.” But Jude didn’t budge. 

“I’m done settling for percentages,” he said with another shake of his head. “Percentages of my father. Percentages of you. I want it all. And I can’t stick around waiting it.” He sidled past the baller, determined to walk away before his willpower expired. 

“Gideon!” Zero called out. Jude stopped short, the door just out of reach. 

“What?” He asked, looking back. 

“Gideon,” said the baller again, eyes skyward. He shuffled from foot to foot, feeling well out of his comfort zone, and shrugged. “That’s my name. Gideon,” he repeated. Jude smiled. Gideon, he thought, loving the way the name sounded. He would never have guessed, but somehow, it was perfect. 

“I would love to take _Gideon_ out on a date. To a public place. And listen to him tell me exactly who he is,” Jude said, smiling wistfully because he knew it was never going to happen. “If you want that, give me a call sometime.” When he turned to walk away this time, Zero didn’t try to stop him. 

...

Jude dropped by the court on his way out. He was done being Zero’s agent. He was done being Derek’s go-to man. And Oscar? Well, even if Oscar wasn’t going to prison for murder, Jude was done with him too. He had no reason to visit the Devil’s Arena ever again. He looked around the stands, practically hearing the echo of the roaring crowd, and remembered the pride he felt just a few hours ago. He had dreamed of being like his father, of being a part of the Devil’s, ever since he was a kid. But now? Now Jude was done dreaming. It was time to wake up. 

“Devil Nation, rise up,” he said to the empty arena before turning his back on the world of professional basketball once and for all. 

...

“Muffy!” Mrs. Baker cried, dropping her grocery bags to chase after her dog. Jude rushed forward to help. He scooped the Yorkie into his arms — the dog yipping in all of the excitement — and rose to return the little guy to his owner. 

“Jude,” Mrs. Baker said with relief. “How are you, dear? I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

“I’m good, Mrs. Baker,” Jude said politely, handing her the squirming dog before bending down to retrieve her groceries as well.

“And your mother? How’s she?” 

“She’s good too,” Jude answered, busy tracking down a stray orange. Somehow, it had managed to roll all the way to the other side of the lobby. “I’m flying out to visit her this weekend.” 

“Oh, how nice,” his neighbor said with a smile. “And that man of yours?” She asked, her voice turning shrewd. Jude looked up in surprise. “He helped me catch Muffy too, you know. Just the other day.” 

“Really?” Asked Jude, frozen in mid-reach. Mrs. Baker nodded. 

“Oh, yes,” she said scratching the dog’s chin. “He was really taken with Muffy. Said he had half a mind to get a dog for the two of you someday. Of course, not a Yorkie Terrier,” she prattled on, oblivious to Jude’s gut-punched expression. “Something bigger and more suitable for two strapping young men like yourselves. A golden retriever, I think he said.” 

“Huh.” Jude managed. He carried the bags to the elevator and pressed the button for going up. 

“He was very nice. And handsome too. What’s his name, dear?” Jude stiffened.

“Gideon,” he croaked and cleared his throat. 

“Gideon,” she tested. “Lovely name. Well, you tell Gideon that if he’s serious about buying a dog, I have a cousin in Pasadena who’s a member of their Kennel Club. I bet she can tell him about a good breeder or two.” Jude simply nodded, not trusting his own voice. He was in serious danger of sobbing in front of the woman if she kept talking for much longer. To his relief, the elevator dinged. “Oh!” She exclaimed in delight. “That was quick! Well, you take care, Jude,” she said, stepping forward and turning to wave goodbye. Muffy bounced up and down in her arms, his tongue lolling happily. “And hang onto that Gideon!” She called out as the elevator doors slid shut. “That one’s a keeper!” 

Jude stared at the lobby floor, his vision threatening to blur. Did he make a mistake? He wondered. Had he been wrong all along? If Zero wanted to buy a dog for the two of them, it meant he imagined a future together. Jude thought back to their relationship. He remembered the baller buying Jude gifts, getting him a promotion, cooking when Jude ate nothing but junk food, washing dishes when Jude ran out of cups to drink from, listening to Jude’s constant, anxious worries, offering comfort with a joke or a kiss...

With a sniff, Jude reached for his phone and searched for Zero’s number. His fingers hovered over the green button, ready to press call and beg the baller to take him back, but Jude stopped short. Loving Zero was never the problem, he reminded himself. Staying in the closet _was_. Jude pocketed the phone. He was tired of being kept a secret. It wasn’t enough. Not anymore. He deserved better. 

Maybe Zero will change his mind and call Jude after all, he thought with renewed hope. Maybe they will be together again in no time. No, corrected Jude quickly. Not _Zero_. Gideon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! It feels so great to be done! Turns out the cure for writer’s block is procrastinating on my school work, lol. Any other sad 2020 grads out there? I just wanted to take a moment and say thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments on my work. It really means a lot to me and does wonders for my motivation to keep going. I’m a slow, putsy writer, and sometimes I agonize over a sentence for a half hour before scrapping the whole thing and writing something completely different. You should see my list of cut scenes! It’s no wonder I can’t seem to write more than a chapter a month, haha. 
> 
> It’s been so much fun to write about these two, and surprisingly, it went beyond just writing. Throughout this journey, Adam Senn’s instagram (the actor who played Zero) inadvertently motivated me to do weight training again. And even though I had never been to an NBA game before writing this story, I went to not one, not two, but THREE games to get inspiration. Turns out my home team sucks, haha, but I had such a great time, I’m definitely going to more games once it’s safe again. Now I just watch basketball on TV while working out. Never thought I’d be one of THOSE people. :P 
> 
> I’m starting a residency in June, and unfortunately, I’ll have even less time to write than before. So this is not a goodbye. It’s a goodbye for now. Let me know if you’re interested in a Season 3 or should I jump straight ahead to Season 5 instead? I can work on either one at a snail’s pace, haha, but I promise I will post something again eventually. :) <3 As always, feedback is welcome!
> 
> Edit: After reading all your wonderful comments, I decided to continue with Season 3 and write as much as I can before June! See Part II: Devil May Care :D


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